


Mindwipe

by Sandara



Series: XVIII [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Android Gavin Reed, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27513538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandara/pseuds/Sandara
Summary: After the revolution, GV200 -AKA Gavin- has been promoted to detective and is currently working on a case related to the recent mass disappearance of the so-called unwanted androids in the Detroit metro area. The case appears to be far more complex than the DPD can handle alone, thus having to request the help of his ex-partner (and currently a little more) Special Agent Richard “Nines” Kent.Both Nines and Gavin have an unstable relationship, haunted by the events of the days surrounding the revolution and the current political turmoil. Meanwhile, Gavin finds himself struggling to keep himself together.ORThe continuation of that story in which I switched every character in this universe.I highly suggest reading the first part titled “Role reversal”.Tags will be added as the story develops.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: XVIII [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010829
Comments: 17
Kudos: 29





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! As always, thank you for taking the time to check this out. As I promised, this is the continuation of my previous story, now set post-revolution. If you haven't read the first part, please give it a read!

Date:  
**_May 13rd,_** _2039_  
Time:  
_PM_ ** _01:12:_** _42_

Several things had changed in the last months, not just at work but in the world in general. Yet, the bullpen remained pretty much the same, or at least that's what Detective – Now Special agent– Richard "Nines" Kent thought when he entered the precinct that Friday morning.

He himself had changed a lot in that short amount of time: regained some weight, cut his hair back to its usual professional length, and had finally gotten rid of that obnoxious cast. He looked a little more like he used to, safe for some minor changes.

He spotted Connor at his desk and walked straight to him, raising his hand.

"Look who graces us with his presence! My brother, the traitor," exclaimed the lieutenant, rolling away from his desk to greet his brother with a smile.

Connor had changed too, and for the best. Though he still wore the same awful pattern shirts and wild hair, he looked healthy, well-rested, and altogether happier.   
Nines knew that not all was smooth sailing in his brother's life, but he also knew that in his left back pocket was a Six-months-sober coin. That was enough to make the other Anderson happy.

"Could you stop calling me that? I did not betray anyone," protested the taller but younger brother, shoving his hands in his jacket, aborting the greeting with an angry frown.

"Sure thing, mister I'm-gonna-help-the-feds-for-a-while," retorted Connor, a playful smirk on his face as he pointed to the FBI badge on his left hip. Richard blushed a little but kept an offended expression.

“It has only been a few months!”

"And here you are! What was it? Quantico couldn't handle you, baby brother?"

"Oh, you're such a prick when you want to, Connor."

"Traitor, I have no brother…" Connor said dramatically, managing to pull a smile from his brother's lips despite refusing to change his bitter expression.

"Lieutenant, Special Agent Kent is right ... it's just consulting, I don't see why that should be called treason; the FBI and DPD are both law enforcement agencies after all," Hank chimed in, carrying a cup of coffee in his hand and a tablet in the other.

"Hank, do you know what a–?… Forget it, nevermind," Connor exclaimed, having turned around to try to explain his android partner what a brothers bullying was, but giving up midsentence, patting Hank's back.  
They were still working on the HK800 abstract thinking.

"Nice to see you, Hank… everything alright?" Nines greeted the tall android.

Unlike many other androids, Hank had chosen to keep his LED, which calmly glowed blue at his right temple, his hair combed back into a ponytail. However, he had ditched his uniform and was wearing an equally awful dress shirt, tie, and jacket. His brother's bad taste had rubbed off on him.

"Yes, Agent Kent; a little busy, though. We've been working on a series of cases regarding component trafficking," he explained, and Connor immediately perked up.

“Yeah– it started as a regular missing android case, and turned into a rabbit hole,” the shorter male explained, pulling his tablet from his overcoat and showing it to Richard.

“What you mean?” inquired the agent, frowning a little and taking a pencil from his pocket to fidget with it.

The tablet showed a missing android report:

**_AGENCY CASE NUMBER: 44-34257_ **  
_CASE REFERENCE: Missing android_  
_SUBJECT: AP700 #480 913 802, Name: Mira_  
_Reporting officer: ID#4761 UNIT #714/ Officer. Mendez_  
_CASE ASSIGNED TO: LT. C. Anderson / Det. H. Anderson (HK800 #313 248 317-53)_

_Android last seen by friends on MAY 9th, leaving New Jericho alone. Roommate claims strange behavior in the weeks leading up to the disappearance. Unclear sighting at WESTSIDE INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT on MAY 10th._

"We haven't been able to locate Mira, but we uncovered a connection to some Chinese traders; they ran a repair shop on Westside Industrial, and someone saw her go into the store. We search the place from top to bottom, but all the parts we found were second-hands from China,” Connor explained, frowning in a similar way to his brother.

"You don’t think she was…?”

"We couldn't find any evidence to support that she had been dismantled and sold, all the parts within the store were harvested from Asian-made androids," Hank interrupted, his voice more monotone than usual but his LED yellow. "We are not yet recognized as a sentient species there, so no crime was committed... We had to let them go."

He nodded in understanding and scrolled through the documents for a few minutes, knitting his brows and rolling a pencil between his fingers.

"I'll see if there's anything on the FBI archives about this MO… I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks, just don't steal our case ... I've punched an FBI agent before, and I can do it again," Connor threatened with a half-smile that Richard reciprocated, nudging him playfully.

"How's your arm, Agent?" Hank asked, referring to Richard's compound fracture.

"Richard, Hank…. You can call me Richard or even Nines," he reminded him. "It's alright, doesn't hurt anymore, but it's weaker than the other... It's to be expected, though."

"You'll get there, Nines," Connor encouraged, patting his shoulder gently before tilting his head to the side. "Hey, by the way, why are you here?"

"Oh! I–… I came by to drop some personal files for Amanda and thought I could stop by and say hi. Is she in her office?"

"She's always there," the Lieutenant replied. "Careful, she's in a bad mood…"

"When she's not," he snorted, heading for the glass castle.

He paused at the door, compulsively fixing his tie before knocking. It amazed him how, being a thirty-two-year-old man, he was still terrified of talking to his boss like a middle schooler walking into the principal's office.

"Come in," called Stern's voice, and Richard pushed the door open, finding the woman buried in a ton of papers– She still liked to read physical documents.

"Excuse me, Captain… do you have a moment?"

"Richard? ...Of course, come in!" A little smile curved the woman's lips and, making some space between towers of papers, motion him to sit down.

The detective obeyed, stiffly sitting across the desk.

"What're you doing here? The Feds couldn't handle you anymore?" She admonished playfully, reading from a binder as she listened –presumably– to him.

"No, I wasn't fired ... and that's why I'm here," said the detective, rolling the pencil between his slender fingers. Better cut straight to the chase.

Stern stopped and lowered the papers she was examining, turned to him, taking her glasses off her nose to look at the younger officer. Richard didn't recoil, although he wanted to.

"I've been asked to join the FBI permanently."

"Oh!... Well, congratulations, Kent! I have no problem signing your transfer. Do you have the documents?" His captain exclaimed, the lines around her lips forming an inverted "V" as she flashed him a proud smile.

"No, I don't have them on me."

"You can email them to me until 4 pm. It's Friday after all, and it's my granddaughter’s birthday party…" she said, turning around and resuming her work, her interest in Richard over for now.

"Ma'am, I'm not taking the position." 

It had taken him a whole ass minute to speak out, finally doing so with a far more conviction than he had expected to muster. However, that did not impress the police captain.

"You sure as hell are taking that promotion, Richard," she replied, deadpan, signing a form and setting it aside. "It's a great opportunity, you'd be damned stupid if you missed out."

"But Amanda, I'm happy with my position here! And my shrink gave the all-clear to go back to work!"

"It's not about your diagnosis, Richard ... it's about your perspective on life," she had stopped and looked at him over her rimless glasses.   
"The FBI is a great opportunity for a smart young officer like you. You're overqualified for most of the things we see here, and is your investigation with the RITF that cracked open that case… you should be the one taking care of it."

"I don't like the Feds…" he complained, furious that she was treating him like a child and even angrier that he was playing the part.

"Neither do I, but–" she stopped once more to collect her thoughts, breathing in and tapping her lips with her index finger.

"Look– I'm not your mother, Richard, I'm your captain. And although I do look after you and your brother, I cannot tell you what to do. If you came to me with your mind all made up, there is nothing I can say to change your decision, am I right?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, his voice low but clear, even slightly enraged.

"Then do what you want," she said, pointing at him with her glasses. "But give it a thought, don't make any rash decisions that you may regret later."

He sighed, clutching the pencil in his hand and stood up.

"I've already made my mind; I'm just asking to be reassigned back here... Please, Amanda."

"You still have your place in this precinct, Richard, although your– … partner has taken possession of your desk, I'm afraid," she exhaled wearily, it was no secret that Gavin was a constant pain in Stern's back.

He smiled, a little more relax at that, and nodded.

"Thank you for your time, Captain… have a nice weekend."

"Close the door on your way out! And tell Reed I'm not buying any more spare parts for him if he keeps throwing himself into the line of fire. Seriously, he behaved better with you around." She exclaimed, typing furiously on her laptop.

Nines snorted, shaking his head as he exited the office.

It wasn't like working at the bureau was bad; he liked it. And, while his fieldwork was scarce, he had had the opportunity to rub shoulders with the best agents in America.  
He recalled the time he had trained with the BAU to get his degree in behavioral sciences at Quantico, just a few years back. And despite being an incredible experience, it was very different from actually working major cases (like the Red-ice trafficking ring) with all the resources a federal agency could provide.

His work environment wasn't bad either (except for Perkins, who held an understandable grudge against him). His commanding officer was a man he had met during that training course, Agent Hunter Cruz, a highly respected senior agent with a long history in the force.  
He knew he could learn a lot from him and the rest of the team, but he found himself longing to go back to Detroit.

He missed the fieldwork – being able to interrogate suspects and follow leads, as opposed to reading reports and interviews all day while getting his ass flat on an office chair. And he didn't like the still prejudiced attitude most FBI agents had with android personnel.

To be fair, he missed Gavin more than anything.

"Nines! Hey, Jerry!... Detective Nines is here."

He had just returned to the bullpen, stopping by his old desk, when a smiling Daniel approached him, followed closely by Jerry.

"Hey, good to see you two," he greeted, smiling to the blonde and redheaded officer.

They had seen each other on very few occasions since the revolution, usually when they had to testify in court about the Gagliano case, and Richard hadn't been in his best condition to have an in-depth conversation with his colleagues.

"Ditto! Hey, Nines, how is the FBI headquarters? Did you find out if area 51 is, in fact, an alien compound?" Jerry asked, getting a worried and slightly uncomfortable look from Daniel. You could never be too sure if Jerry was being serious or not; he had a peculiar sense of humor.

"I think that's more of a CIA thing, Jerry," Richard replied, snorting a little. He turned to Daniel and smiled broadly, patting his arm.  
"North told me you have your bar exam next week, Daniel… hang in there, you'll be a great lawyer. And maybe we can finally have someone on our side in the DA office."  
The young officer blushed, his fair skin doing nothing to prevent his ears, neck, and even his collar from turning pink.

"Yessir; thank you, sir, I'll do my best…How's your arm, sir?" he stuttered, the blush darkening a bit more as Jerry began to laugh at him.

"Almost completely healed. Hey, have you seen Ga–?"

"Hey! Meat sack! What are ya' doing here!?"

"Speak of the devil and he doth appear."

Gavin had just entered the precinct, stomping into the bullpen with a thirium bottle in one hand and his right sleeve torn and stained with blue, his arm twisted at an impossible angle. Daniel swallowed hard, his stomach quite sensitive to that kind of show.

"Hey, Gavin! Did you run into an incoming bus again?" Jerry teased but recoiled immediately at the furious and somewhat manic glare the android gave him.

“Very funny, Palmer… you're a fucking comedian.”

The GV200 looked pissed, drinking the last of the thirium bottle and throwing it away.

"Guess you had a busy morning," Richard suggested, keeping a straight face despite his heart peaking up pace at that sigh. He knew the android would notice, but he didn't mind anymore.

"Some moron attacked North and me with a baseball bat; fucking son of a bitch," he exclaimed, dropping down on his chair and rummaging through the bottom drawers of his desk. "Hit me three times before North remembered she had a stun-gun… shit, where did I leave that damn thing?"

"Is she alright?" Richard interrogated with a severe frown, his demeanor reverting to a leader-like stand.

"Of course she's alright! I wouldn't be here if she wasn't," he shouted back, offended. "Here you are!"

He had taken out a small repair kit, peeling off his jacket and inspecting the dent in his arm. The synthetic skin had disappeared on the wounded spot, leaving just the white alloy stained with blue. He opened the lid, and thirium came gushing out.

“Oh, God–” Daniel mumbled, rushing to the bathroom.

"Weak stomach," Jerry added, shrugging and following his partner to see how he was doing.

Richard sighed long and deeply, approaching the desk and taking off his jacket as well.

"Here, let me…" his ex-partner said, rolling a chair to Reed's side and inspecting the injury more closely. "Is not that bad, no internal damage; I think I can fix it myself."

"I know, thanks rA9 … I didn't wanna go to Ralph's twice in a week."

Richard just growled in reply, chastising.

"Thought you were staying in Quantico until Sunday," Gavin muttered, extending his arm so Richard could work. He had become quite skillful at these little repair jobs; it was more or less like fixing his car– if his car could talk and complain all the time.

"I finished my paperwork a little earlier and took the first flight," Richard replied, raising his blue eyes for a second to look at Gavin. The android's LED flickered to yellow, and a soft blue hue appeared on his cheeks and ears.

"Good, Okay, whatever…"

Richard smiled to himself. He liked it when he made Gavin shut his trashmouth.

"There, that should be it…"

"You're getting better at this, Dickchard," He exclaimed, inspecting the work Nines had done on his arm. The synthetic skin covered it immediately as if nothing had happened.

"I have plenty of occasions to practice, since you apparently like throwing yourself on the line of fire," he said accusingly, raising a brow.   
"By the way, Amanda said she isn't getting you any more spare parts for next month. So, you may want to start doing your work properly."

"Tsk! You go away for two months, and you think you can boss me around? Fuck off, Kent… I'm a detective too," he said with a proud, cocky smile, throwing his feet over the desk– Richard's desk.

It wasn't a surprise the android had aced his detective application; the surprising thing was that, after the revolution, after being dead for two months, the only thing Gavin had wanted was going back to the DPD.  
He and Hank were the first android detectives officially recognized by the Detroit Police Department. And he displayed his badge with the same pride with which he still bared his LED.

"Detective Gavin Reed," Richard said mockingly, looking at the plaque on the desk. "Don't let it go to your head, Tin can…"

"You wanna fight me, meat sack? Anyplace, anytime," he replied with a crooked smile, sitting up as if ready to fight him; yet his hazel eyes lingered on his partner, his thigh brushing gently against Richard's, hidden under the desk.

"I don't have work tomorrow ... how about tonight?" the detective replied, holding his gaze and intentionally pressing his knee against the inside of the android's leg.

“Sure.” 

He resisted the urge to lunge forward and just kiss the human's stupid mouth. He hadn't seen him in a week, and to his regret, he had missed his sorry excuse of a partner.   
But few people inside the DPD knew about their _"relationship"_ –They hadn't settled on what it was; basically because neither of them had grown a pair to talk about it, sticking to the ambiguous term of _we/us_ – so kissing him in the middle of the bullpen wasn't probably a good idea.

Since Richard had started working with the FBI, he spent a lot of time in Virginia or at the local bureau; that meant they didn’t get to see each other as much.   
He knew Nines wasn't allowed to return to fieldwork yet, but that was what Gavin missed the most, working cases with him. North wasn't bad, but she wasn't Richard.

"Hey, since you're back and all," he began, still pressing his thigh against the other. "You wanna go watch a movie?"

"Sure, your place or mine?" 

Kent asked out of courtesy. Gavin's house was more like a closet than a studio apartment, always full of nonsensical trash and in a horrible neighborhood. At least the android had had the decency of buying an actual bed, yet he seldom worried about having food around for the human.

"I… was thinking that we could go to this place in Ferndale. It's showing the movie you mentioned the other day," he began, tucking the few tools into the repair kit to put it back in his drawer.

" _The Shining_? Really?! That is actually a pretty good idea. I have to check some things at the bureau, but then I’m free."

"Great, pick you up at seven?" 

"Okay, but for the love of God, bring a–"

"A helmet, I know…stop bitching about it, Jesus."

With his first paycheck, Gavin had bought himself a motorcycle that he rode like a maniac and well over the speed limit. Richard had lectured him about it several times already.

"Okay, see you at seven then… don't be late." Richard smile confidently, making the android stupidly jittery in his chair. His masking protocol kicked in and quickly hid his LED, but nothing could be done about the now pink blush covering his cheeks.

"Great. I've gotta get going to–… a scene; see you then, meat sack," said the android a bit hastily, getting up from the desk and taking his jacket.

“Be safe, Gavin… no more spare parts,” he reminded him, suppressing a grin.

"Yeah, sure… What are ya' staring at, Anderson?! Fucking freak," Reed muttered, shoulder checking Connor who was standing next to his desk with a shocked expression. Neither Nines nor Gavin had noticed his presence.

North, who had just appeared from the break room, raised a hand to greet Nines, but the android hooked his arm around it, pulling her away.

"Hey, where are we going? We just got here!" She complained, half a bagel in hand and the rest in her mouth.

"Out; got a lead… get a move on, North." He insisted, pulling her to the door.

“Bye, big guy! Nice seeing you!”

They disappeared as swiftly as they had entered, leaving Nines still sitting at his old desk, a pleased smile on his lips.

"Did Gavin Reed just ask you out on a date?" Connor's voice was a mere whisper, looking at his brother with a disconcerted expression.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Con," Nines replied, getting up and putting his jacket back on.

"Don't bullshit me, Nines… are you two–? You know," he said, serious as he could be. Behind him, Hank frowns a little, as if mentally wondering how blind his partner could be. Connor's obliviousness and Hank's concrete thinking made them a surprisingly fitting duo.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop, Con, that's very rude. Come on, treat me to lunch."

“You earn more than I!”

Connor didn't drop the subject for the entire lunch until Richard countered his question by asking about his relationship with Hank and if he was really taking him to Thanksgiving dinner as he had promised their mother. Suddenly, the lieutenant was much more interested in talking about the incoming NHL game between the Red Wings and the Maple Leaves.

\----------

Date:  
_**May 13rd,** 2039 _  
Time:  
_PM **07:15** :00_

He left the FBI building a little later than he expected, caught up in some bureaucratic things he had left unfinished at Quantico. He grabbed his jacket, checking his watch, and heading to the elevator in a bit of a hurry.  
One of the good things about going out with an android –Nines had learned– was that even a childish prick like Gavin was relatively punctual, which made his neurotic self rest a little easier.

However, now was not the best attribute, to be honest. 

His phone rang once while he waited.

**_GV200 Gavin:_ **  
_Outside_  
_19:00 **√√**_  
_Come on_  
_19:10 **√√**_

**_9:_ **  
_Be right there._  
_19:11 **√√**_

He typed into his phone while still calling for the elevator, watching it slowly climb up to his floor. He noticed he had another unread text.

**_SA H. Cruz:_ **  
_Hey, you got there in one piece?_  
_18:26 **√√**_  
_I sent you some footage to check if you have time_  
_19:00 **√√**_  
_It's the statement of one of the Chinese merchant I interrogated yesterday. Something isn't right about it. I know u don't speak Cantonese, but could u have a look at his behavior?_  
_19:00 **√√**_

He saw Hunter was still online and quickly replied, Connor’s and Hank’s case coming to mind.

_R.K :_  
_Of course, sir. I'll check on it._  
_19:13 **√√**_

**_SA. H Cruz:_ **  
_Only IF you can_  
_19:13 **√√**_  
_Don't call me sir…_  
_Freaks me out_  
_19:14 **√√**_

**_R.K:_ **  
_You're my boss now, H._  
_19:14 **√√**_  
_I had the same feeling while you were questioning him. Like he was being misleading ... but not on purpose._  
_19:14 **√√**_  
_I'll have a look and email you. I have to fly back on Monday, after all._  
_19:15 **√√**_

**_SA. H Cruz:_ **  
_Yeah, I overheard u talking to Perkins_  
_Sorry about that, Detroit_  
_At least enjoy ur weekend_  
_19:17 **√√**_

He replied with a quick thank you and finally climbed on the elevator, squeezing himself in between some other FBI personnel. 

Telling Gavin he would have to fly back to Virginia, this time for a full two weeks, was something he wasn't looking forward to, and he hadn't yet told him about the job offer. He had convinced himself he wouldn't have to do so, since he wasn't going to take it anyway.

He was glad to see Gavin's bike at the entrance of the FBI building, the android sitting there waiting for him with a pissed expression. The voices in his head, always whispering strange obsessions, suddenly fell silent.

"Hey!"

"You're late!" he shouted, throwing him a helmet. Richard barely managed to catch it. "Come on, get on the bike… we gotta hurry."

"Where's yours? You haven't bought one yet, have you?" the agent admonished, putting it on as he sat behind Gavin. His stomach began doing all kinds of flips and turns, and not precisely from the prospect of going on a date, but Gavin's reckless driving.

"You should thank me for even stopping to grab one in the first place... Come on, we're gonna be late– Hold on tight, Kent!"

He barely had time to wrap his arms around the other man's waist before he floored it up Woodward avenue towards Ferndale 90 mph.

Richard clutched himself to the android’s back a little alarmed, and Gavin would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy feeling the detective’s heart beating like crazy against his back and his arms crushing him, squeezing harder every time he took a turn.

Gavin happened to like scary movies, but was, at the same time, jumpy and easy to scare.   
It surprised Richard to see the tough-looking android recoiling in his seat at the sight of the twins on the hallway, clutching his arm when the elevator doors slid open to let a river of blood flood the Overlook Hotel entrance, and how his LED flashed furiously red when Jack Torrance finally exclaimed his catchphrase.

Richard just enjoyed the film; he hadn't gone to a movie theater in ages, and Gavin had actually bought him popcorn. If this was the android's idea of a date, it wasn't half bad– he liked popcorn.

  
"I don't get it; the hotel was hunted? Possessed?" Gavin asked him as they walked from the parking lot to Richard's building. It was still a little cold for March, but it wasn't as unbearable as before. They stayed close to each other.

"The hotel is an evil entity in itself, and in some way, made everyone inside it lose their minds. It's not as clear as in the book, and it diverges a lot from it, but it's a really great movie," the detective explained, closing his jacket a little tighter around him and shoving his hands into his pockets. "I think I have it somewhere in my apartment."

"Is that a lame excuse to get me into your bed, Nines?" Gavin smirked at him tauntingly and a bit childishly, both standing on the steps of said building.

The detective just rolled his eyes.

"As if you weren't going to stay with me tonight."

Although he said it with an annoyed tone, Gavin knew that the human was playing with him, pressing his hand to the small of his back to let him in first.

The android stayed at his home four out of seven days a week, even longer since he started flying to Virginia. He said it was to take care of Bucket, but they both knew that the cat had fended off for herself most of her life; she didn't need them, she just liked the petting and the free food.

"I’m just going up to your place to pet Bucket."

"You've taken care of her all week, Gavin."

"Hey, I saw her first… and you just took her for yourself, you greedy bastard."   
He waited for Nines to open the door to enter the dark apartment, no need for light to find his way to the cat that rested comfortably on the couch.

He didn't make it past the threshold, as Nines stopped him before he could get any further, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him so his back was against the detective's chest, leaning against the door.

"You missed me, detective?" the android purred, feeling Richard's lips on his neck and then his teeth, pricking his skin and biting into his alloy. 

"Your behavior today was acceptable, Gavin; I think rewarding you is appropriate,” Nines' deep, slow voice murmured in his ear, hands moving from the android's abdomen to his chest, grazing his nipples through the shirt.

Gavin groaned, panting a little, before breaking his hold and turning around to face him. The tiny light from his LED illuminated his annoyed features.

“Wait a minute, just _acceptable_?"

“Yes, or is this your idea of an outstanding date?”

“Hey! I paid for your food!”

“Popcorn is hardly a meal, Gavin…”

"You're a fucking princess, you know that?"

Nines let out a laugh that tried to be condescending but was sincere and happy instead.   
He leaned down and kissed the android lightly on the lips, never too sure if Gavin would push him or kiss him back. Fortunately, he opted for the latter, biting his lower lip just to have the last word.

“It was a good date. Thank you, Gavin.”

“Sure, okay…”

Yellow LED, blue cheeks, and Gavin was all sort of colors upon Richard’s eyes, looking away and hiding his face, at a loss of words once more.

They kissed again, long and slow, Richard resting against the door with Reed pressed flush against his body, even raising to the tips of his toes to make up for the height difference. He let his lips be parted, the android slipping his tongue and making the kiss dirtier, needier, while Richard instead teased him by pulling away.

The android kept trying to get his hands inside the human's clothes, pulling at his dress shirt and tugging his belt, but Nines would hold his wrists or bite his ear, anything to delay the process (much to Gavin's discontent).

"Babe, come on… I haven't touch myself in a week, and I'm dying here," Gavin panted, feeling Richard's hands deliberately avoid his growing erection, fondling his thighs and ass but never his groin.

"And why is that?" the detective insisted, fingers tracing his nape down his neck, making the android tremble.

"You fucking asshole… because you told me to!" He blurted out, grabbing Nines' shirt, not sure if he was going in for a punch or a kiss.

"And you actually listened to me? I'm impressed," the human praised, finally setting his left hand over his tenting pants, very subtle, not applying any pressure. The android shivered, letting out a soft moan.

"Is that why you're so anxious, Gavin?... maybe we should wait a little longer," he teased again, taking his hand away because– why not? Edging his partner was something they both enjoyed, even though GV denied it even to himself.

"Oh, fuck no! Give me a break, I can't fucking do that!" He exclaimed, aggravated, pinning him to the door. "Fuck me, Richard… Right here and now, or I’ll kick your sorry excuse for an ass."

The human laughed again, unfazed by his threats, and kissed his temple. He rolled his hips against the android’s, realizing that he had as much pent-up desire as his partner.

"Alright, but let me get the lights… you may be able to see, but I can't," the human said quietly, gripping the android's hips a little tighter than he intended.

Gavin moved quickly, his hand darting to the wall where he knew the main panel was, and illuminating the entire apartment with a single command. He turned to look at the human, not saying a thing.

"I'm okay… but thank you," Richard replied to the nonverbal question, releasing his grip to caress the android's side lazily. Gavin nodded but kept a careful watch over the human's expression and heartbeat. He was frowning.

"Bedroom?"

"Bedroom," Nines confirmed and untangled his arms from Reed's waist, watching the shorter man dart across the living room as he stripped off his clothes with a coordination only an android could have.   
He stopped by the bedroom door and turned to see if Richard was following him.

"Nines, you okay?"

"Yes, be right with you," he assured him, leaving his gun and badge on the counter. He spun around and turned the door lock once, then twice. He made sure the door was locked nine times, and only then he headed to the bedroom.

Not everything was great.

The GV200 knew because Richard had told him, in a choppy and sometimes incoherent rant, what his problem was. The detective hadn't planned on doing it that way, but he should have known by now that things with Gavin could hardly be planned out.

The android was curious by nature and, the first thing he wanted to do on the first day of the year was to read and examine everything that existed about the revolution, about Kara, …and about Coffey.

Richard, tired as he was and having fallen asleep on the taxi on their way home from Graff's, had allowed him access to his ARI so he could read as much he pleased. He hadn't expected the android to find the psychological report Dr. Nowak had written about him, and, of course, Gavin had read it without an ounce of respect for his privacy.

So when he awoke that night of January 2nd, drenched in sweat and screaming into nothingness once again, Gavin was already by his side, wrapping his arms around him and holding him till his heart agreed to stay inside his chest.

He had told him everything right there, tugged to his chest like a kid, refusing to cry but unable to keep his voice from cracking a few times. Gavin asked a few questions but remained silent for most of the story.  
He then had fallen into an uneasy but deep sleep, knowing the other was by his side, keeping guard.

  
Gavin had left for the next morning, and Richard accepted the possibility that he wouldn't come back. After all, he was free to do as he liked, and was probably confused and upset about coming back to life and being undeviated against his will.

But he returned three days later, around midnight, his clothes caked in mud and in his own thirium, asking Nines if he could stay there for a while until he figured out what to do with himself. Nines accepted.  
He never told him what he did those days, and the detective never inquired.

"You or me?" Gavin asked, turning off the shower as he stepped outside, trailing water onto the bathroom floor.  
Richard handed him a towel, absently drying his hair, and he proceeded to do the same, his eyes lingering on every bite mark and hickey he'd left on the detective's pale skin.

"Hmm, I think I'm good tonight... and you?" The human replied, walking back into the bedroom, fetching some clothes and a set of clean sheets. The bed was a mess, and he refused to sleep like that.

"Easy night; ten bucks…" 

"You're feeling lucky, Reed?"

"Yeah, why not? It's Friday, none of us have to work tomorrow, and you fucked me nice and thoroughly." He stretched out, pulling on a faded pink T-shirt and boxers. "I think I'll be nightmare free…"

"Even after the movie?"

"Oh, fuck off!... I had forgotten all about those twins! Shit," he grumbled.

"You can't forget, GV…" he reminded him with a suffocated laugh, slapping his ass as he passed him just to piss him off a bit more.

  
It had begun as a joke, a really cruel one, but a joke nonetheless– _Who's going to wake the other up because of nightmares?_   
And, granted, Gavin's nightmares, as any other android's, weren't the same kind of film-like projection humans had. But, instead, something more akin to a redundant code that startled his stasis-mode, overbearing his ability to differentiate reality from his internal processes.

At first, Jason and Ralph had suspected it had something to do with the redemption program, but as the time passed, more and more androids reported having these so-called "dreams". The conclusion they reached was attributing dreams to deviancy (the go-to scapegoat when it came to android-related stuff), and no one had delved deeper into the subject. 

… But Gavin was not a deviant.

They started placing bets on each other just to make the subject less awkward, especially the first time Gavin had woken up in the middle of the night convinced he'd been drowning and freezing, kicking and thrashing in bed as Nines tried to restrain him.   
He had almost broken his arm again in the struggle.

"Come on, let’s get this over with… I'm tired." Richard pointed to the bed, suspecting that his partner was more than capable of simply laying down as he was. Although Gavin didn't need to sleep, he had gotten into the habit of doing so; the human suspected it had to do with helping him sleep as well, but didn't want to mention it out loud.

"Gavin? Hey… come on," he called again, raising his head to figure out what exactly the other was doing.

The android was just standing by the closet, his LED spinning slowly.

"Gavin?... You can't be on stasis already, c'mon," he accused, a bit annoyed by his joke.

Reed didn't answer; he stood there, eyes fixed on some distant point.

"GV, come on... not funny." Richard quickly straightened up, touching his arm.

As soon as the detective touched him, the android seemed to wake up and looked at Nines with a confused expression. "You okay? Your heart is beating like crazy."

"Me?! What about you? You just froze like if you just –… bluescreened or something!"

"Really? I was just checking something on my software. Stop being such a wimp; I'm okay… plus, I'm not fucking Windows, Meat sack, I don't BSoD."

"Says the android that blacks out every time he comes," Nines taunted, throwing one side of the comforter to him.

"Hey, I'm getting the hang of not doing so… and you like it, pervert."

Richard snorted; the android wasn't wrong about that, though.

"Did that man smack you in the head with the bat?" the detective asked, finally crawling into bed.

"Nah… he did try.” 

Gavin pressed his back against Nines's side and tangled his legs with his, waiting for the other to settle in to turn off the light. "Hey, you gotta work tomorrow?"

"You know I don't... I told you already," he replied, yawning and leaning his forehead against Gavin's warm back; he let his arm fall over his waist, his palm settling against his lower abdomen.

"You did?"

"Androids can't forget."

"Nah, we can't…."

And yet, he couldn't recall that conversation.

_**Initiating Stasis** _  
_Estimated duration: 07:59:59_  
**_System diagnosis in process:_ **  
_Scanned completed… 2 errors_  
_Error corrected: 0/2…_  
_Error detected on Core Memory System. File X1f321Te3.1 corrupted._  
_File X1f321Te3.1 couldn’t be repaired. Do you want to delete file X1f321Te3.1 [ **Y** /N]?_  
_File deleted._  
_Instability on Redepmtion.exe_

_Please contact a certified android care provider for further evaluation._


	2. Communication skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin is assigned to a new undercover job that has one interesting quirk. Richard, enjoining his last days in Detroit before going back to Virginia, lends a hand. 
> 
> This chapter contains: political topics; android discrimination.

Date:  
_**May 12nd,** 2039 _  
_Time:_  
_AM **09:35:** 11_

“Let me get this straight,” said Gavin, hunched over the table, playing around with a butterfly knife he always carried around. “You want me to work for you?”

Hank waited a moment before answering, keeping a deadpan stare despite his LED changing to yellow. He sighed softly and leaned his hands on the table. The break room was empty.

"No. I'm recruiting you to do this job because you're better equipped for an undercover operation than any other android. You can change your appearance, and you are-… far more natural with humans than I am." Each word made Gavin smile more arrogantly, puffing out his chest. Hank's expression, on the other hand, was growing increasingly irritated.

"So… you need me."

"…Yes."

"Alright!" exclaimed the younger-looking man, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms over his chest in a relaxed manner, grinning from ear to ear. "I'll help you…"

Hank kept a frown but nodded.  
"Thank you, Gavin. I know we-"

"But under one condition."

 _Of course,_ the HK800 thought, _nothing with this piece of shit is easy._

"Do tell…" 

Gavin propped both hands on the table and looked intently at the other, perhaps trying to intimidate him, but Hank didn't change his expression.

"I'm not going to be your underling… YOU asked for MY help, so you recognize that you need me."

"Gavin, you're a detective… I am a detective too. We both have the same rank," Hank interrupted him, finally breaking his neutral stand. There was only so much shit he could take from the GV200. "The commanding officer of this operation is Lieutenant Anderson. Hence, he's the one you'll be reporting to."

"You mean… your human lover?"

Hank, who had opened his mouth to continue lecturing Reed, fell silent and stirred in his chair, huffing.

"That's a low blow. Even for you, Reed." Hank finally muttered, his cheeks turning a little blue under his thick beard.

"I couldn't help it!" He laughed, patting the other on the shoulder. "Fine, fine!… but I'm not following stupid orders; I never did with Nines, less will I do it with his freak of a brother."

"You're… insufferable," Hank said, his upper lip pulling up as he often did when angry.

"Yes, but I'm good at my job," he reminded him, and Hank had to agree with that.

Since the revolution, he and Gavin had been promoted to detectives. Though Hank and Connor mostly dealt with android-related cases, while Gavin and North Collins were still part of the Red-Ice Task Force, their units had collaborated on more than one occasion.  
Truth be told, the HK800 hated working with Gavin; But deep down, he couldn't deny that he was damn good at the job, so he put up with most of his shit.  
It was easier when Detective Nines Kent was around.

"I am sending you everything we have on the case. We will meet to discuss the matter with our contact soon," Hank said, as the two connected momentarily to share information.

"Sure... Hey, what’s the infiltration job about?" He asked for specifics.   
The vending machine in the break room had recently been stocked with thirium-based products, and Gavin had decided to try each of them. He walked over to it, more intrigued by the treats than what Hank could say.

"A club."

"Doesn't sounds too difficult." He punched the number on the machine and waited for the thirium bottle to drop before reaching for it. "I mean, it's not like I have to earn anyone's trust on a night out…"

"It's a strip club… you'll be infiltrating with the dancers." And finally, Hank grinned fully, watching the shorter android spin around and nearly bang his head against the side of the table.

“Wh-what?”

“Is that a problem, Gavin?”

"Look, Hank… I may be able to change my appearance, but that asking too much," He began, suddenly losing his bravado, for Hank's personal enjoyment

"Oh! I know that, Reed… but our contact says they are in need of a male stripper, and as you previously stated, you're good are your job, aren't cha'?"

"Ye-yeah… _Phuck,_ ” he exclaimed between gritted teeth. His words came around to bite him in the ass.

Hank smiled again and walked away from the room.

\---------

Date:  
_**May 14th** , 2039 _  
_Time:_  
_AM **10:02:** 56_

Richard was busy making himself breakfast. He was scrambling eggs, the coffee pot sizzle softly on the corner of the counter. It was a little late for his usual schedule, and he still wore his pajama bottoms and an old shirt. 

"Connor said you were going to help him and Hank," he spoke up, glancing over his shoulder toward the living room.

Gavin lay on the couch, the tabby cat on his chest, playing with a toy without much interest. He was also wearing the same clothes he had slept in, a washed-out pink shirt and black briefs. It was a lazy Saturday morning, after all.

"Yeah, they recruited me to do an undercover gig," he replied, putting the toy aside and grunting a bit. Bucket meowed in complaint.

"What? I know you don't like working with my brother, but you like going undercover, don't you?... move, that's my spot."

Grumbling even louder, the android moved to the right, leaving space for the human to sit with his breakfast. Bucket meowed again, trying to get her head inside her owner's bowl.

"It's not… this is-… it's not like my typical jobs," he settled, crossing his arms and throwing his bare feet over the coffee table. Richard kicked them down.

"Care to tell me? Connor only mentioned a series of androids disappearances…" He raised the bowl over his head to prevent the cat from eating his breakfast. Richard had lost control of his own home.

"Not just any android... _Unwanted androids,_ " Reed replied grimly, scratching his stubble as he often did when he felt uncomfortable.

"Oh…" 

It was a slur, often frowned upon, but one of which everyone knew the meaning.  
_"The unwanted."_  
They were the multitudes of consumer models- all destined to do menial and repeating jobs, many of them with no support network- that had found themselves lost in their own freedom. 

The _unwanted_ term came from the now highly controversial Registration Act, which went into effect the first weeks after the revolution, forcing all androids to register under a civil name and be associate with a "human contact" to ensure their pacifism.

Many of these androids had no human willing to vouch for them. Some of them had just woken up that very day, or in the weeks leading to Kara's last stand, so they had no previous owners or employers, not even acquaintances.   
New Jericho had categorically rejected the initiative, but the title stuck... and so did the law.

Gavin had been lucky in that regard; Nines had vouched for him on the registry. But he knew, from talking with other androids and in his own visits to New Jericho, that many androids still struggled with their status. Obtaining a registration without a human contact was difficult, and the government often made the process awfully long and bureaucratic.

He had thanked the human for that, with honest, open words. Richard had blushed and mumbled a choppy _don’t worry about it._

On the other side of the spectrum; were _Singulars_. Often luxurious, specialized or strange models (or prototypes) of which only a few existed: - Gavin, Kara, and Hank were singulars. There was an unspoken rivalry between the two of them, often one-sided.

  
The android took Richard's tablet, interfacing with it through his hand to showed him the documents Hank had sent him a few days prior. The missing android files opened on after the other.

"Eleven cases, Nines ... but no one noticed them until Mira disappeared. These androids didn't even have a damn name. No one realized ... not even Hank or me; that were supposed to watch after them.

"There's always a part of the population that tends to be pushed away from the spotlight." Nines tried to explain but decided to rephrase what he was going to say halfway through. "It's-… unfair. Law should be equal to everyone, but we often fail to do that. At least now, their cases are being looked into."

He smiled a little, watching Gavin's LED calm down into yellow. He was getting better at soothing his partner, learning to say things in a way that would both help and comfort. _Assertive talking,_ people call it; he calls it _Being less of a dick._

Gavin leaned a little on Richard's shoulder -a quite unusual gesture- and the detective placed his hand softly on his back, stroking his neck with his thumb.

"We better do a good job, then."

That was as much cuddle they'd do outside bed: No handholding, no long hugs, and definitely no public displays of affection. And while Richard had never been a very demonstrative person, and definitively not a cuddler, he liked the strange domestic life the android had brought into his home. It was so different from anything he had experienced before.

… when he was able to escape Quantico, that is.

  
"Hey, GV… could you take a look at an interrogation tape? I want to know your opinion on the suspect's behavior."

"Me? You're the one with the psychology major, Meat sack… that's not really my field of expertise," the android countered, leaning back on the couch and throwing his legs onto Nines' lap. He picked Bucket and let the cat snuggle up next to him.

"The interrogation is in Cantonese. Could you translate for me?" he asked, stroking his knee.

Sometimes he could find the little indentations where his components attached, well hidden under the synthetic skin. He purposely stroked there with the pad of his thumb, watching the skin peel back a little and the android shudder.   
Gavin could feel that without having to tamper with his settings.

He sprawled over his lap, letting Nines’ hand run up his thigh.

"Sure, but that'll cost you…" the android grinned, pressing the inside of his cheek with his tongue in a lewd gesture. The FBI agent did not look disturbed at all.

"Charming… that's really alluring, Gavin."

"C’mon! You're such a prude," the android exclaimed, playfully kicking his shin. "Let me see the recording…"

He reached for his tablet, downloading the video Hunter had sent him and propping up the device for Gavin to see. They did not stir too much from their positions.

"Who's this fucker?"

"Minh Thúy, a Vietnamese merchant the Coast Guard found floating adrift in territorial waters on the west coast.”

The recording showed a man sitting in an interrogation room. He was a short, middle-aged man, severely sunburned and wearing clothes that were a little too big for him. He stirred in his chair, alternating between fidgeting with his thumb and index finger and staring at the door.

"What happened to him?"

"He said he worked as a crew member on a Chinese freighter, stated his ship had been hijacked in open waters, and he had managed to escape."

Gavin nodded and turned back to the screen, watching the timestamp gradually tick by with not much action other than the man's edginess.  
There was a distant tap, and the man immediately jumped. The door opened no long after, and an agent entered, sitting opposite to Minh and slightly out of frame. He spoke first.

 _"The date is May the 11th, and it's -… 04:11 hours PST time. This is Special Agent Hunter Cruz, with the FBI… Hello Mr. Minh, do you speak English?"_

_"No,_ " replied Minh, shaking his head.

The agent spoke again, this time in Cantonese, and Gavin translated simultaneously for Richard.

_"Do you speak Cantonese, Mister Minh? I'm sorry if my pronunciation is a bit off."_

_"I do,"_ he replied, lifting his face a little, still fidgeting with his hands.

 _"Good! Mr. Minh, I'm Special Agent Hunter Cruz from the FBI. How are you feeling? The Coast Guard found you in a very poor condition,"_ he spoke frankly. Gavin noticed he had little accent at all.

"That's the guy you work with?" The android asked, turning slightly to Nines, who just nodded. He watched the tape with his brows furrowed and tapping his lips with the tip of his index finger.

_"I'm better…. Thank you."_

_"Mister Minh, as you appeared in American waters, it is only natural for us to want to speak with you, especially considering the statement you gave to the first agents who brought you to the ER. You said your ship was hijacked by pirates?"_

_"Yes"_

_"Did you recognize any of those men? Their nationality or perhaps the language they spoke?"_

_"No, I couldn't understand what they were saying. Maybe Somali? I don't know,"_ the man shivered, trembling in his seat. _"They were black… maybe from Africa? I don't know."_

_"And how did you managed to escape?"_

_"I got away in one of the lifeboats."_

_"Were any other of your crewmates able to escape?"_

_"No."_

Nines stopped the video and hummed softly, bouncing his foot on the floor. Gavin waited for him to speak, almost able to see the detective's mind working.

"You see this?" The detective finally said, rewinding the clip a little. "How he jumped at that sound?" He replayed the short segment, Minh jumping on his seat when Hunter entered the room.

"Yeah, guy's a little jumpy… I would be too if some went all <<I'm the captain now>> on me and left me drifting on open waters for a week."

"Yes, that's true… it is called acoustic startle reflex and is often associated with traumatic event; the stress caused by these events make subjects hyperaware of their surroundings."

"Well, that makes sense…"

"Yeah, but after that-," he fast-forwarded the clip and let it play. Another loud noise was heard, probably someone closing a door in the next room over, but Minh just continue his tale undisturbed.

"He didn't flinch!" Gavin exclaimed, turning to the other detective. Nines nodded.

"Most people can fake emotions but faking them and also being able to keep a bogus story straight at the same time is almost impossible. See this? Every time Hunter interjects him, the anguish that he had previously shown disappears all together…"

"He's making the story up…" Gavin frowned, "Why? What’s he hiding?"

"I have no idea, but this should help us question him next time," Nines said, stretching out on the couch and putting the tablet aside. "What?"

The GV200 kept staring at him, a smirk on his lips as he rested his chin on his palm.

"Not bad for a human, Meat sack… I'm surprised."

It was Richard's time to blush. So light was his skin, his ears turned pink.

"Well, you said it yourself… It is my major after all," he countered, turning away and getting up, cleaning up the rest of his breakfast.

"I say you should look into this mysterious freighter. The ship may be disposable, but the cargo isn't. Someone has to be pissed about losing those containers… That, or the cargo was something that never meant to be on record, and thus, cannot be reported as missing."

The android was right. As much as Richard was sure of his analysis, criminal psychology was not an exact science; they needed real evidence, or the case would just fade away or go back to the Coast guard or Homeland security.  
He still had thirty minutes more to analyze; maybe he'd find something else. He smiled; at least that was better than having to go through thousands of boring old interviews to add them to the FBI database.

"Oh, shit…" 

He heard the android's complaint even with the noise of the faucet.

"What is it?"

"Hank… he wants me to meet the contact that'll help me settle into this undercover job."

"Like… right now?" He tried but couldn't stop some disappointment from seeping into his words. He bit his tongue and waited for Gavin's remark, but the android just grumbled, his LED spinning, presumably responding to Hank.

"At noon. Fucking hell, I've been working with him for three days...and I already regret it." The android stood up and walked to the kitchen. "Hey… I'm-… I really have to do this, you know?"

Gavin was genuinely bumped down about it. He missed Nines, and he was hoping to spend the weekend with him.   
Deep down though, he felt stupid about it since the human hadn't even asked him to; but still he hoped Richard would just roll with it instead of asking why he hadn't gone to his own home yet.  
Things would be easier if he could be a little more honest with the detective, but he still found it very difficult to talk openly about some things. This was one of those.

"I know. Don't worry about it…work is work." Nines shrugged and turned his back to him to continue washing the dishes.

 _Say something, Nines… please,_ the android wished, still standing by the counter, staring at the detective's back as if he could really transmit him his ideas. It didn't really work that way, but the detective did actually stop what he was doing and turned.

"Maybe… I could join you?" He said, stiffer than usual.

"You mean-... helping out?"

"Yeah! Off the record, of course… but I could tag along and-" He bit his lip again, nervous.

"Sure; An FBI agent assisting the investigation sounds much more convincing than a group of androids dressing-up." Gavin laughed, playing it down like nothing. Richard snorted too, shaking his head and turning once more to finish the dishes.

And that was all, another chance to speak out wasted. But it was good, it was reliable! They were still in the _safe zone_ , the _no-commitment zone_ , where they could fuck, hang out, and take care of each other without broaching the complex subject of feelings.

Their usual jokes and teasing were good for now. Everything else was too much to deal with.

"I'm just tagging along, no official FBI involvement… remember I'm just a temp; I cannot decide on behalf of the bureau."

"Ugh! You sound like such a dick when you say _bureau_ …" Gavin mocked, mimicking Nines's voice as he said the last word. "C’mon, let's get dressed."

"Gavin."

"Hm?" 

He turned around, looking at the man standing silently in the kitchen. A full minute passed, and neither of them move, but he waited, expecting the human would say something else. He couldn't help but listen to his heartbeat, analyze his features, looking for what the detective was holding back.

"I have to go back to Virginia on Monday. This time for two weeks… I'm sorry."

"Sure."

"Sorry, but could you look after Bucket? I know you keep telling me to just give her to you," he rambled on, looking anywhere but the android's face. "…I can ask North if it's too much trouble, or maybe Connor. I-"

"Richard."

"Yes?"

He kissed him.

Sometimes actions spoke louder than words… and they were far easier for the android to convey.

\---------

Date:  
_**May 14th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
_PM **12:45** :33_

They were supposed to meet at a diner in downtown Detroit, a tiny place that catered mostly blue-collar workers, addicts, and hookers. It was steadily crowded with people coming and going - workers clocking in, prostitutes clocking out- and they barely managed to find a table on the farther corner.   
People gave them nasty looks as they passed. Richard, clean-shaven and with an implacable dress shirt, stood out like a sore thumb.

"Could you look more like a cop? Seriously, it would be easier to just draw a LED on your forehead and pretend you're an undeviated android, Kent."

"I-… I didn't know we were going to a place like this," the detective replied, clearly as uncomfortable as Gavin, trying to fit into the small booth and blend in with the wallpaper, but he was far too tall to go unnoticed, bumping his knees under the table.

"Just… lose your first two buttons, and for Chrisstsake, mess up your hair!" Gavin turned to the detective and forcefully ruffled up his bangs, overcoming Nines' resistance.

"Hey! I can do it myself! Jesus… where is this supposed contact? It's a quarter to one already," the human complained, escaping from the android's hands and combing his hair back into place. He unbuttoned his collar as instructed, though.

"She might have bolt as soon as she saw you, as far as I know," Gavin complained, sprawled on the seat and with his arms around the back.

If Richard's appearance screamed cop, Gavin, on the other hand, seemed fully attuned with the rest of the diners.  
He had his masking protocol activated, which meant that all distinctions between him and a real human disappeared. Not even androids could tell he was posing as a human. He could block other android's signals from scanning him, all thanks to Ralph's trickeries.  
His LED hidden, his scar a darker color than his skin. White male, in his late thirties, 5,9 ft and 176 pounds. Human Gavin Reed.

Richard glanced at his wristwatch once more and sighed, suddenly longing for a cigarette.

"Tell me more about this job," he said, turning to face the android. People had finally stopped staring at them. "Who exactly are you portraying?"

Gavin frowned and scoot a little further from him.

"You- … you might not like it."

"Come on, how bad can it get?"

"Promise you won't laugh."

"Laugh? Why should I?"

Gavin grumbled again and scratched at his scar. He propped both elbows over the table and gestured vaguely with his hands, trying to find the best words to describe his assignment without causing the detective a stroke or, more likely, a laughing fit.

"This… club. It's run by the same people who own that workshop on Westside. Anderson thinks, and I have to agree with your brother on this, that the club is a cover-up to hook androids into trafficking. All eleven missing android cases are somehow linked to either the workshop or the club."

"I see. The snakeheads have gained much more territory and power since the Gaglianos' disbanded," Richard mentioned, thoughtfully. "If they don't make money with drugs or guns… then android trafficking is a very lucrative business. Are you going to pose as one of them?"

"Meat sack, my software is good… but not that good to make me look Asian.”

"True… so?"

"I'm going as one of the… dancers."

"Dancers?"

"It's a strip club, Dickchard."

"Oh."

The human fell quiet and fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt, tugging them as if the sleeves were suddenly too short for his arms, clearing his throat, and checking his watch once again.

"C’mon, laugh already!" demanded his partner, his cheeks a little flushed, getting flustered at the other's blasé.

"It is a funny assignment,” Nines replied, with a polite smile before finally snorting out the laugh he had been holding. “… you can't dance for shit."

"Oh, shut up… like if you could dance."

"Watch out; you might like the glamorous life of a stripper… all those dollars bills raining down on you? Sounds better than the DPD paycheck."

"Fuck you, Kent."

Richard finally let out a boisterous laugh, startling the android who shoved him hard. His face turned red.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!... shut up already, Kent!"

"I promised nothing!" He mocked between burst of laughter, not holding back.

He tried, really tried, to imagine Gavin as a male stripper, and all he could think of was the times he had undressed in front of him- either quickly to get back to touching, or slowly and shyly, not making eye contact, like the first time they'd fucked.  
For an android that looked like an anatomy model, the GV200 was particularly self-conscious. It was hard to imagine him undressing in front of people, all eagerly yearning to touch him, devouring him with their eyes.   
Richard felt the strange stung of jealousy.

"Oh…"

"What?" 

"I was trying to imagine you, stripping on stage… and I got the weirdest boner."

"Oh! You're a perv! Fucking lewd creep…"

"Calm down; your protocol is glitching." The detective whispered into his ear, making no effort to hide how amusing was for him making Gavin so nervous.

"Shut the fuck up-" he whined, taking a menu that was lying on the table and hiding behind it, busing himself on deciding what to pretend to eat. His face was completely blue with embarrassment.

Richard just snickered a little, taking his phone out to finish the mail he had to send Hunter.

No more than ten minutes had passed when the chime of the door opening startled the detective, making him jumped in his seat. Gavin turned promptly to his partner, catching on the way his heart rate raised and his pupils dilatated. He was about to say something when a woman entered the diner. Richard nudged him a little hard in the side.

"Look."

She was dress in black, pale and had vibrant blue hair. And, of course, Gavin and Richard recognized her immediately.

"Great… of all people, I'm forced to work with you two," Ripple said, sitting across from them, throwing her bag and helmet next to her. She snatched the menu from Gavin's hands.

_D'AMICO, MARGARET "Ripple" GIULIANA. Born 12/25/2011 // Unemployed // criminal record: Assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest, vandalism, destruction of private property, breaking and entering… [ 5 more, show ˅]_

"What are you doing here?" Gavin asked, not getting why Ralph's roommate (and North's ex) was sitting in front of them. The woman completely disregarded his question and instead raised her hand to call the waitress.

"Hi, Roxie… I'll have the chicken with hash browns and a strawberry milkshake. Oh! And the biggest, most expensive dessert you have; the gentlemen here are paying."

"You're my ….?" Gavin murmured, dumbfounded.

"Yes, I'm your date for today… and if your friend wants to tag along, that will cost you double." Ripple cut him off abruptly, her green eyes flashing him the universal sign to _shut-the-fuck-up._

"I'll bring the shake first, honey. And you, gentlemen?" Roxie asked, smiling playfully at what she thought was a high-class snob and his trophy boyfriend looking to spice up their relationship.

"Two cups of black coffee" Nines blabbed out, keeping his eyes fixed on Ripple.

"Alright. Call if you need anything else…" The waitress, Roxie, said, swinging her hips back toward the counter, winking at the two men.

"Are you really my con-"

"Not now, I'm eating! I had a really long night, baby. Did I tell you about my friend Oscar? He's a real sweetheart, a bit crazy, but sweet- " She began to ramble on about worldly nonsense that none of the men could follow, sipping the milkshake the waitress had brought her.

About 10 minutes may have passed since she had arrived at the diner, talking non-stop while the other two just stared, sipping coffee and glancing around, when she finally made eye contact with the android.

"Look, I'm putting my neck out on this one… you better be fucking slick about it," she said, addressing Gavin directly.

"Listen Margaret-"

"Ripple… never Margaret."

"Fine, Ripple. I know I'm not your favorite person… but I'm good at this."

"Oh, really? Cause I recall you pulling the worst fucking lie in history to get into my house, without a warrant, to talk to Ralph and use him," she said bitterly, her eyes landing on Richard for the first time. It was hard to forget she'd slapped him.

"Would you have let us in if you had known who we were?!"

"No," she accepted and leaned back in her seat, losing a bit of the edge and aggressiveness she previously had.

"Ripple, I completely understand that you're upset with us," said the agent, finally speaking. "But Dowland was out of control… it was never our intention to-"

"Shut up, just-… shut up." Though angry, her voice lacked energy. "I know…"

They kept silent for a while, the woman picking pieces of the hash browns with her long fingernails but not really eating any. Richard drank the stale coffee in silence.

"I'll help you get inside the club. I've already talked to Lin about you, and she seemed interested. I've only been working there for a couple of months, but something is rotten about it. Most of the girls are too afraid to talk... And the few androids that have worked there vanish in less than a week."

"That's all I need ... help me get the job; I'll do the rest." 

"Then you better learn how to dance, fuckboi," Ripple said, getting up and grabbing her bag hastily. However, instead of leaving right away, she turned around, lingering by the table a little longer.

"Will… North be working with you?" 

"I dunno."

"Okay… see you here on Monday, 4 pm sharp. Tell her to fix you up. I don't think Mr. white here knows what a jockstrap is."

She said nothing else, walking away and leaving the men in an uncomfortable silence.

"You know what a jockstrap is?"

"I have no idea."

\-------------  
Date:  
_**May 14th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
_AM **14:30** :19_

  
Nines parked his Lincoln near the back entrance of the precinct, taking advantage of the fact that few officers worked on weekends, and most of the spaces were empty. The DPD parking lot wasn't small, but it was often crowded during the week, both with patrol cars and stolen/crashed vehicles waiting to be towed. Today, the only other was Connor's.  
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before turning to the man beside him. Gavin spoke before he had a chance to do it himself.

"Say… did you know North's ex was a-?" he asked, busying himself with a pack of thirium gum. He shakes his head and shoves his hands in his pocket but can't find a pencil to fidget with. He must've forgotten it.

"No, I only met her once... and I didn't ask much about it." He shrugged, exiting the vehicle. "To be honest, I don't know much about North outside work."

"Guess I’m not much of a friend either… shit," Gavin muttered, popping his gum and walking into the precinct.

"Yeah, guess we aren't.”

Richard had never thought about her as anything but a colleague, not until November of last year. And even now, he was new to the whole concept of having a female friend – any friend, to be honest. North, Travis, and Ralph appeared in his life on the spur of the moment, and he had yet to figure out how to properly relate to them.  
He was - _still_ \- emotionally crippled.

  
Similar to the parking lot, the bullpen was deserted apart from them, most terminal empty and their screens turned off. As in any place that's often buzzing with people, the scene could have passed as eerie. Richard, on the other hand, found it peaceful.  
Connor was already there as expected, sitting at his desk with his nose pressed into some documents. He seemed serious and worried; his boyish face crossed by a somber frown. Richard knew that meant a case was eating at him.

"Hey, Anderson!" Gavin exclaimed, walking up to the lieutenant with long, hard strides and kicking up a fuss. "How come you didn't tell me my damn contact was North's ex-girlfriend?! She fucking hates my guts!"

"Every single person I know barely tolerates you, Reed… it's not so surprising," Connor said without raising his head.

"Your brother likes me…" teased Gavin with spite. Richard made sure to stomp his foot harder than necessary.

"Good afternoon, Agent Kent… Reed," Hank greeted, appearing from the hallway with an old evidence box, a relic from the past. Wherever Connor was, Hank was near. He placed the box on the lieutenant's desk.

"Nines? What are you doing here?" His older brother inquired with curiosity, but not completely surprised, catching on his brother’s presence from Hank’s greeting.

"I-… had nothing better to do."

"Never mind that, I want to know why you put Ripple as my contact ... and why the hell is she helping us?! She hates cops," Gavin insisted, gesturing towards the room to exemplify his point.

"First of all, I had no idea she was an acquaintance of North, let alone her ex," countered Connor, setting the file on the desk and turning his chair toward them. "And second, she was the one who approached us… so shut up and sit down. We discovered something interesting."

Richard was aware that he held feelings towards the android, very strong ones, but that didn't prevent him from grinning ear to ear at the sight of his brother absolutely roasting his lover.   
Gavin closed his mouth and sat down, obediently.

"Remember the connection we found in the other eleven cases? Well, there's a longer list than we originally anticipated," Connor sighed warily, and for a moment, he did look older than he was, as his rank implied. "We've been reviewing older cases, ones that didn't even make it to the digital archives."

"47 cases," said Hank, leaning on to the desk and folding his arms over his chest. "All missing androids or… stolen; that's how they used to classify them. Mass-produced models that no one would miss, and suspected of deviancy even before the term was coined."

_"Phuck…"_

"How did no one notice?" asked Nines, shocked by the idea.

"They were first considered as stolen property, but as this happened around the boom of production, it was never very thoroughly investigated. When deviancy started becoming a mainstream thing, all cases were taken as runaways deviants and again swept under de rug." Connor said, rolling his sleeves and reaching for another file. "We only realized the link between them when it became clear that all the cases had some connection to the same domain ... TCS."

The folder fell on the desk with a hard slap, the company logo on the front. It depicted a large ship with small waves hitting its side; the letters TCS below.

_< <Transatlantic commercial shipping>>_

"I've never heard of it in my life," Richard said, picking up the folder and flipping through the pages, none of which made much sense.

"And you'll probably never will, agent… it is a ghost company founded in Detroit but whose head offices are in Hong Kong. They claim to be a plastic importing business, but there's no record of any products reaching American coasts or vice versa," added Hank, the scowl on his face deepening. His LED had remained steadily red since he appeared.

"The strip club, the workshop, and several other businesses here in Detroit are outsourced businesses from this TCS company… or outright money laundering schemes," Connor sighed again and stretched his arms over his head. He could feel a headache coming. "Whatever it is, we better get a deeper look at this. That's where Gavin comes in... Reed?"

Gavin was quiet, having connected to Connor's terminal. His eyes darted from side to side, blinking furiously as his LED swirled.   
When he lifted his hand from the terminal, his LED was red, and his protocol had stopped working completely.

"Hank, get a look at this."  
Both droids leaned over the terminal, engrossed in the thousands of files opening and closing on the screen, too fast for humans to see.

"Hey, Nines," Connor called, rising from his chair with a tired groan. "I'm starving; let's grab something to eat. These two will be busy with whatever they're doing for a bit, and it's not like we can help them… Have you eaten yet?"

"Just coffee." 

"Then, c’mon… I want the greasiest burger I can get my hands on."

"No saturated fats, Lieutenant!"

Connor patted his brother's shoulder and urged him towards the exit, complaining about not being able to order takeout since Hank started living with him. But Nines tuned him out a bit. His gaze lingered on his partner – GV's eyes unfocused and clouded with the amount of information he was trying to analyze.

It was… _uncanny._

\-------------  
Date:  
_**May 14th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
_AM **15:22:** 45_

Richard would never understand the appeal Chicken Feed had for Connor. Knowing in advance that Gary Kayes was operating without a food hygiene license (for the past eight years, by the way) was enough to make the younger detective lose his appetite. But his brother disregarded those things.  
Connor disregarded a lot of things, to be honest.

"No plastic today, Connor?"

"I finally ran away from him, Gary…and I'm taking advantage of that."

"Same as always then. How about you, Detective? The French fries are 100% vegan, I promise," teased the owner. Gary and Connor had known each other since the lieutenant was a rookie, and he'd met his younger brother on a few occasions.

"Don't know if I would bet on that!" A man- dark-skinned and wearing a flat cap- exclaimed, winking at Connor. Richard would have said it came out of nowhere.

"Sure! Cause following your tips is making me rich, Pedro!” Connor laughed widely, the owner and the newcomer joining in too, leaving Nines a bit confused as to what in the world they were talking about.

Gary turned a little to Nines and winked at him.

"I'll make sure to get you something meat-free, Kent… don't sweat it."

Connor continue talking with both men, chatting about people Nines knew nothing about; his brother, as awkward as he was, was far more approachable than him.

His mind wandered back to the two androids at the precinct: How Gavin and Hank seemed completely fixated by the work they were doing. His CPU was probably using most of its RAM to scan every piece of data, crisscrossing information faster than he could ever do in a lifespan.  
He had become so used to seeing Gavin as just another human being — a childish, irascible, but kind one — that he tended to forget he wasn't made of flesh and bones like him. No matter how human he and Hank looked, their minds were still binary encoded, and it was at times like these that the difference became apparent.

"Here ya' go," said Gary, placing both burgers on a tray, shooing Nines away with a smile when he pulled out his wallet to pay. "Don't even think about it."

  
The tables surrounding the food truck were all empty, as both Anderson brothers were the only customers at the time. Despite that, Connor chose to sit at the farthest table; that should've made Nines suspicious.

"Eat, Nines… there's nothing sadder than soggy fries," exclaimed the older brother, biting into his burger with a childish, satisfied smile. "God, this is good… Hank's got me eating lettuce for the last two weeks."

"I would certainly prefer lettuce," He sighed but ate his food regardless.

"Says the herbivore!"

They ate in silence for a while, Nines taking the time to send a quick text to Hunter, asking him if he had read the report he had sent him. He was still waiting for a reply, as he absentmindedly chewed his food, when his brother loudly cleared his throat.

"So! Back to business, so to speak?" questioned Connor, having eaten at least half his cheese-burger and washing it down with some heavily sugary drink that smelled like pineapple air-freshener. The fact that Connor had not yet died of a heart attack could only be explained by his young age and sheer luck.

"What you mean?"

"You, accompanying Gavin to that meeting." He looked up at his brother, sipping the soda. "You shouldn't have done that, Nines."

He frowned.

"Why? It was a simple meeting and-"

"Chill, I'm not scolding you," the lieutenant cut him off. "I don't think it was a bad idea; after all, you're a detective too… and the only person I know who can keep Reed in line."

"Then? Why you said a shouldn't have gone?"

Richard was annoyed, not only because he hated when Connor patronized him, but also because he hates being told what he can and can't do.

"First, you're an FBI agent… you could get in trouble with your boss for taking part in investigation that does not concern you," Connor pointed out, and Richard had to admit he was partially right.   
This wasn't like the Gagliano case, where he had disregarded orders for the greater good, opting to act first and face the consequences later. These were quiet times, without a life-and-death situation that could justify bending the rules just because he was bored.

"Granted, okay… you're right." 

Connor nodded, and the pause that followed made him think his brother was done, but he knew him, and his persistent gaze meant he had something else on his mind.

"Richard…" 

If there's something Connor was famous for – and not in a good way – was being brutally honest. And due in part to his awkwardness and goofy looks, he got away with opinions most people would punch him in the face for (although it had happened on a few occasions). Richard had been on the other end of those opinions his entire life.

"Shoot," said the younger brother, resigned but already pissed.

"You were on desk-duty for a reason, Richard… and trust me, I know it's a bitch, and you're pissed and want to go back to working real cases." He paused for a moment, looking at him in a way that made clear he was taking on the role of the older brother. "but two months ago, you could barely walk into a dark room without drawing your weapon."

"Oh, for fuck sake, Connor!" He exclaimed, pushing himself away from the table with a scowl. "Drop it…"

"I'm being serious, Nines… You shouldn't go back if you aren't ready."

"And who the hell are you to say that?!" His voice rose a little louder, slapping the table in anger. "I'm okay! My boss says I'm okay; my damn shrink says I'm okay ... Could you get off my back and let me be?!"

"I'm just telling you; you should take it easy!" The older exclaimed. When they fought, it often escalated from an argument; to a shouting match; to a fistfight at breakneck speed.

"How? Sitting on my ass all day for God-knows how long, until I forget how to shoot a gun or interrogate a suspect!? Fuck off!" Richard pushed him.

"You're such a fucking brat! Would you take your head out of your ass and listen to yourself?!" Connor pushed him back, hard enough to make the detective stumble a bit.

"And you suddenly have the moral authority to tell me this?! You have some fucking nerve, Connor!" he pushed him harder, and for a moment, it seemed like the lieutenant was about to punch him but instead stood widely, glaring at him long enough for Richard to recoil.

"You wanna go back to fieldwork, huh? How about not diving headfirst into a rock?! I'm telling you because I've been there, Richard. Rushing things and having a fucking mental breakdown in the middle of a crime scene is not what you want, and it's definitely not what your team needs."

He snarled, but Connor continue.

"I'm telling you this as your brother, but also as a higher ranking officer- make sure you got your shit together before going into a job… or you might get you and your partner killed."

Richard's blood was boiling. He could feel his own rage in his heartbeat, in his eardrums, in the fire burning his cheeks… but ultimately, reason triumphed over anger, and he forced himself to calm down, to even his breathing, to relax his muscles.  
And as if it were a mirror, Connor did the same.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too."

"Don't; you're right... but I hate when you are." Richard accepted, resting his arms on the table and his head in his hands.   
Connor nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, one final gesture for the brothers to settle their differences.

"Hey," the older brother seemed to hesitate, rummaging through his pocket until he found a half-empty packet of cigarettes. "… is it true? That your shrink gave you greenlight?"

"Yes, I wouldn't lie about it," he added, the desire to smoke arising upon seeing the carton. Connor noticed and immediately put it away.

"Hank proposed something… would you back me up?"

"Of course!" He cleared his throat, trying to dissipate the eagerness in his voice. "Of course. What do you need?"

"I'll tell you at the station, but let's get back… those two probably collapsed the DPD server already with so many queries."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double featured! The first chapter is the same as the addendum to bring a little context into the fic, but this is brand new.  
> I really wanna know if you liked this! if you have the time, leave a comment <3


	3. Facial recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor asks his brother for help in an investigation, and Nines is more than willing to go without even asking what the plan is. We also dive a little deeper into the Lieutenant's life and how Hank changed it.
> 
> This chapter contains: drug use, mental health issues.

Date:  
_**May 14th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
_PM **09:29:** 32_

"This is the single dumbest idea you've come up with, Gavin," said Daniel, rubbing his temples as he sat on the DPD parking lot. His hair hadn't even dried up yet, and he was tired and sore after spending days studying for his bar exam at that miniature desk in the public library. He knew he should've gone straight to bed after showering; picking up Gavin's call had been his first mistake.

"It's a good idea, and it wasn't mine… it was Hank's. So complain to him."

"I think it's the best idea ever," exclaimed Jerry, sitting on the hood of a patrol car. He had a toothy smile on his baby face, and his red hair was tucked under a woolen beanie. It was still chilly for May. "Going to strip club, all-inclusive, and sponsored by the DPD? Knock me down with a feather…"

"This is not a pleasure escapade, Jerry… we're scouting the place; gathering information and such," clarified the lieutenant, struggling to light his smoke in the turbulent wind.

Scouting the place was a preventive measure. Sending Gavin into an unknown location was dangerous, especially if they knew androids had disappeared from there under mysterious circumstances. And though Connor generally disliked the GV200, that wasn't enough reason to get rid of him– _The paperwork would've been terrible._

Ripple had given them a broad idea of the club, but the inside of the building was a mystery. Its blueprints differed greatly from what the dancer had told them, and the shops surrounding the club (and apparently connected to it) were all owned by the same person: A woman named Fa, Yung-Lin.   
They needed an inside picture of the place.

"Why are we doing this? Gavin is the expert on these issues." Daniel complained again. Both he and Jerry had been updated on the case- broadly, but at least knew what the objectives were.

"I can't go ‘cause I'm going undercover later, and Hank here is too much plastic to pass as a human, even with a sticker over his LED. So you four get to go to the strip club, get drunk, and do all the bro-ish things you humans do to exert masculinity."

"You're going with us, Nines?" asked Daniel, looking at his superior for some ounce of common sense. The agent shrugged and forced a smile.

"More eyes on deck, I guess."

"So… I'm the only one that thinks this is stupid?"

"Cheer up, champ! You've studied enough and need to relax a bit. We can ask you questions while over some drinks," Jerry encouraged, wrapping his arm around the younger officer's neck and pulling him toward Connor's car.

Jerry could pass a happy-go-lucky guy (and he was! Most of the time), but he was neither stupid nor incompetent. Nines had initially deemed him as idle but had soon learned that the officer was the kind of guy who preferred a low-key position to be underestimated and unnoticed.  
Suspects tended to trust him and try to play him, and he often was able to catch them lying when they did.  
He had worked in Vice previous to the RITF and had an arrest record not much different from Nines. But Jerry wasn't as ambitious as he was; he felt happy with the position he had as a detective.

“And you two are gonna keep watch?” asked the still not-convinced Daniel addressing the two androids.

"At all times," said Hank seriously, tapping the side of his forehead and then motioning to Jerry's jacket pocket. His phone lighted-up. "We've tapped into your phones; if you could keep them over the table or in your breast pocket, we’ll be able to gather more information."

"Just… don't look into my photos," Daniel muttered defeated, climbing into the back of the car with Jerry. Connor was already at the wheel, talking to Hank through the window.

Richard was about to enter the passenger side when Gavin called him.

"Hey, Dickchard."

"Hm?"

Reed shoved his hands into his jacket's pocket, staring straight at him with a little frown before motioning slightly to the side. He understood and got a bit closer so they could talk without being heard.

"You sure you wanna do this? It's not your job," began the brunet, hiding away from the parking lights. He could still see his general features, his face always becoming a little softer when away from prying eyes.

"I'm fine, GV… really."

"Are you sure? Today, at the diner, you-"

"C'mon, Nines!" Connor called through the window. "Before Daniel gets cold-feet!"

Richard turned over his shoulder and nodded to his brother; before returning his gaze to his partner.

So he had noted him jumping.   
If it hadn't been for his earlier conversation with Connor, he probably would've snapped at him, offended that Reed was suggesting he wasn't capable of dealing with the heat. But now that was not the case, and he tried to be a little more objective about it… he was good at it.

"I know, but I'm fine… this is an easy job. And you'll be watching my back, don't you?"

Gavin seemed to react to that, raising his head, determination flashing across his face. He reached for Richard’s fingers with his own, the white alloy warm against his fingertips.

"I won't let anything happened to you again, Nines," he said bluntly, every word uttered with heartfelt honesty.

Richard blushed stupidly, almost painfully. Those words, delivered with such conviction, punched the detective square in the jaw.  
He never thought of himself as the type of person that needed protection, and quite frankly, he hated the idea of needing someone else to protect him since he grew tall enough to fend for himself. But deep inside him, he felt a little easier knowing the android had his back. He liked that.

"Thank you."

He pressed his hand flat against the android’s for a few intimate seconds and then walked back to the car.

\-----------

It was pushing ten o’clock, and the streets were cram-full of people enjoining the Saturday evening. Connor’s Camaro cruised with the four officers inside it, driving down the avenue into the commercial zone, across Capital Park, and into the red-light district.

"Jerry, do your thing. What's our story?" Through the rear-view mirror, the lieutenant watched his brother's Lincoln Continental following them a few cars behind. Hank was driving it.

Jerry popped his head between the front seats.

"So! We know each other since high school; we were on the Lacrosse team-"

"Why Lacrosse? I don't even know how to play," Daniel complained.

"'Cause no one will believe I played hockey, and Nines doesn't look like the type of guy that was in school band. Can you even play an instrument, Nines?"

“I barely sing on tune…” muttered the FBI agent.

"Jerry, focus." 

"Yes! Sorry..." The red-haired man seemed to ponder for a second. "Okay, forget about the high school thing. We know each other from work, and we came to Detroit 'cause Richard here is getting married, and this is his bachelor party. There, easy to remember, right?"   
They agreed.

"How much cash you have?" Connor asked his brother, turning the vehicle into a fenced parking lot, their destination a few streets away.

"Three tens. And you two?"

"Around eight dollars."

"None! I don't use cash."

"Hope that’ll be enough. We can’t use print-pay," Connor sighed, taking his phone and placing it in his breast pocket, the camera facing forward. "You have visual, Hank?"

"Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant."

The group of four exited the car and made their way down the street.

  
Hank and Gavin stayed in the parking lot, inside Richard's Lincoln. In any normal situation, neither of them would need any equipment to watch the footage in real-time. But in the last moment, Hank had decided to take two tablets from the DPD to stream whatever the officers were capable of recording; that way, they could use all their RAM in analyzing as much information as possible.  
Gavin sat on the back, tablet against the door and Richard's laptop in front of him. The HK800 had stayed at the front seat. The radio was on.

"You tapped into Jerry's watch?" He asked Hank.

"Yes. The footage is a bit grainy, but is enough to make identification." 

"Just look for the owners; don't waste time or data on the clients. Nobody gives a shit about a bunch of perverts."

Hank grunted in response. Having to work with Gavin so closely was a nightmare, but it was easier to split his efforts than trying to do it all by himself. He would take care of monitoring and identifying people; Gavin had to map out the place.  
And if things went south, they were near enough to rescue the humans. Hank had a feeling in his gut (If something like that was even possible) something wasn't right about the situation. The place was a lot more sordid than Eden's club.

The change from crossing from one side to the other of Interstate 96 was drastic. It was like that side of Detroit was still living a decade in the past, never having experienced the influx of wealth CyberLife had brought to the Motor City.

The neighborhood was known to Connor; he used to patrol it ten years ago when he was a rookie. It was a rough area, heavily stricken by poverty, drugs, and unemployment.

He had spent his first years dealing with domestic assaults, street fights, and robberies, feeling like for every wife-beater, pickpocket, and dealer he busted, three more would pop up in its place.  
Most cops would stay away from those streets altogether, leaving the impoverished population to fend for themselves, but the stubborn cop had pressed ahead for a whole year without complaining. Shift after shift; arrest after arrest, Connor responded to every call without losing his enthusiasm.   
He only left when he was promoted to detective and transferred to his current precinct.  
The neighborhood was as shitty as he remembered, but the strip club was new.

"This is the place," Connor said, motioning to the underground club, a neon sign directing them to the entrance.

**_【 L O T U S 】_ **  
_Real woman, real tracis. Pick your poison._

"Fancy banner." Jerry's face glowed under the sign, neon green hues glinting off his red hair.

"I didn't know tracis were still a thing," Daniel voiced, turning to the Andersons for clarification.

"It shouldn't… but even free androids have to make a living," replied Richard, brushing his hair over his ear as to hide the earpiece he and the other three wore.

"Let's go," the lieutenant commanded, and they entered the building.

The first and last time Richard had been in a strip club was for Sean's (His best friend from college) bachelor party a few years back. He remembered feeling uncomfortable and out of place in the loud club, trying to relax with his other friends but failing miserably; no amount of alcohol could make him warm up to the idea of paying a girl to sit on his lap.   
The night-out had been more for show than a real thing, and they'd gotten so hammered that Richard had to literally carry Sean on his back through the crowded streets back to the hotel.  
The strip club he, Sean, and the rest of their hockey team had gone that time in Atlantic City was a fucking dump compared to LOTUS.

The air was warm and smelled faintly of flowers and sweat. All the lights were dimmed except for the ones aiming at the stages, flashing and changing colors in time with the music. The main colors set by the lights and the décor were blue, purple, and teal, giving the sensation of being underwater.  
Richard could barely see across the packed club but counted four dancers, including one suspended on a cage at the center of the club.   
For a strip club, it wasn't as tacky as Richard had imagined, so much it felt out of place for the area. Obviously, the club had a steady clientele of pervs.

They sat on an empty table in between two stages, and Kent settled his phone facing forward, trying to film as much of the place as he could.

"It looks like any regular strip club I've been to," said Jerry, scanning the place under the pretext of checking a waitress's ass.

"You've been to many strip clubs, Jerry?" Connor asked, relaxing onto the leather seat.

"I worked in vice for three years, so, I would say a around… thirty? Yeah, maybe more."

“Sometimes I forget you’re actually a detective,” Daniel huffed, sitting next to him with an uncomfortable expression.

"What can I get you, boys?" The same waitress who had passed them previously appeared next to Daniel, leaning toward the younger officer batting her eyelashes.

"A bottle of tequila, gorgeous… This guy here is ready to commit the worst mistake a man can make, and we're here to celebrate it!" Jerry took the lead, hugging Richard and patting his back, truly immersing himself into his role.

"Well, ain't that a shame… Such pretty eyes you got there, stranger," said the woman, smiling at Nines. "I'll be right back with your drinks… and I'll make sure you boys get some nice company."

"Pretty-eyed stranger; we should start calling you that, Nines," Connor teased him, and Richard just rolled his eyes at him.

As much as they had two androids running all kinds of preconstructions, simulations, and god-knows-what with the footage of their phones, the four officers had been trained to do their own scouting and research, and it was time to prove that humans were still useful.

"There are two guards, one at the entrance, one at the stage door. Two waitresses- both female. I see one bartender and four dancers- three girls, one man," informed Jerry, drinking from his glass, keeping his eyes on the farthest stage where a curvy blonde girl danced on a glowing platform.

"See any of the owners?" asked Connor.

"N-nothing," mumbled Daniel, who's discomfort and shyness was hard to hide, getting restless and flustered whenever a girl showed an ounce of attention to him.

"Haven't seen any tracis either," commented Nines, turning over the back of his chair to eye the club. Although many androids no longer bare a LED, he was more than sure that none of the dancers were androids.

"It could just be a publicity stunt since Eden's practically went bankrupt," argued Connor. “Jerry, you see anything else?”

"Nada!" exclaimed Jerry, turning again to the table and pouring another set of shots. Daniel opened his eyes and swatted his arm, already a little lightheaded as the tequila spread through his tired system.

"We can't get drunk," he admonished his partner, yet Jerry gulped down the drink. "Jerry!"

The red-haired man just giggled and wrapped his arm around the younger officer.

"First tip from vice; fake drinking… you take the shot, and on the way down, spit it back into the glass and out; most people are too busy getting smash to notice you've got a puddle under your seat!"

"That's disgusting… are you two doing the same thing?" the blonde exclaimed, looking not very subtly under the table and then at the two Andersons.

"What? No. I'm drinking," shrugged Connor, knocking his shot like it was water. Richard nodded, doing the same. Daniel stared back in confusion.

"I'm a functional alcoholic, and Nines has the liver of a horse," the lieutenant shrugged, then frowned and put a hand to his ear. Clearly, Hank had scolded him.

"We should spread out, cover more ground," mumbled Nines. "Fuck off…" He exclaimed loudly, faking a drunk laughter with surprising accuracy. "I'm gonna get another drink, and-"

"Hey, it's the groom!!"  
  
Right next to their table, behind Nines's back, the same waitress from before appeared, escorted by two other women: a tall, dark-skinned girl with pink hair, and the other, a short girl in high heels and a leather harness. They flocked around the supposed groom, and the detective found himself completely pinned to his seat, looking at his brother in a silent call for help.

"Hey, stranger… where's the lucky lady?" said the pink-haired girl, stroking Richard's jaw with her long fingernail.

"On-on her own bachelorette party," Richard stuttered, half faking, half-real. Not even him, who was known to be unflappable, could keep cool with the other girl now sitting on his leg, stroking his hair.

"And what's her name?" asked the short girl, her big eyes highlighted by heavy make-up.

"Jane…" He stumbled over his words as that had been the best name he had come up with and barely stopping his tongue from saying Doe at the end.

"Well, what Jane doesn't know, can't hurt her…" the waitress cackled, wrapping her arms around the detective's neck, trapping him between in his chair and her small frame.

"Hey, chill… I'll go and get us some drink. It's your last night as a free man!" exclaimed Connor, rising from his chair with a huge grin on his face at the sight of his distressed brother.

He touched his nose with his thumb, and Nines understood he had to play along.   
From keeping watch while he looked for the hidden Christmas presents, to covering for Connor when he came home pissed drunk in high school, to paying his bond when Nines had been arrested during his rebel phase. Both brothers had that silent gesture which both knew:

 _< Cover me.> _Connor stumbled to the counter, leaving the other officers behind.

"The lieutenant is on the move ..." Hank radioed to the other two officers, watching through the camera on Connor's phone as he changed his route and stopped near one of the stages where a girl danced inside a cage. He turned so that the phone was facing a door that read <<private>>.

"Can you get a little closer, Anderson? There's not supposed to be a room there, at least not on the original blueprints," explained Gavin, watching Connor's footage on the tablet but keeping the laptop near-by.

He had gathered enough information to make a very accurate layout of the club, cross-checking with the information they already had and finding several differences with how the building should've looked like. What was behind that door was now Gavin's top priority.

Yet, he shifted his eyes to the laptop, Nines' phone footage playing on it.

_WONG, LIQUIN "Cherry". Born 02/04/2017 // Unemployed // criminal record: VISA EXPIRED. Prostitution, theft._

_LAMAR, MARY "Savanah" EVANGELINE. Born 11/19/2020 // Unemployed // criminal record: Assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest, shoplifting._

_MOORE, AUDREY "DeDe". Born 07/30/2016 // Unemployed // criminal record: NONE._

He identified the three women: the waitress, the girl with the pink hair, and the one in the harness. They were the dancers he was going to work with, and he wanted to know as much as possible about them.

"Does it bother you?" Gavin asked, turning his eyes to the footage of Connor. Another girl was chatting with him lively.

"What do you mean?" Hank replied, looking back at him through the rear-view mirror.

"Anderson ... and the woman that's giving him a lap dance."

"No."

"You sure?" He snorted through his nose and leaned back against the door, kicking his feet over the leather seat and imagining how pissed that would make Nines.

"The lieutenant is very committed to his work. I trust him, and I believe he's more concerned with getting results than eyeing females in skimpy outfits." Hank glared at him indirectly. Gavin was aware he was in some way projecting, but he pressed on regardless.

"You’re fucking him, aren’t you? He’s your SO or whatever."

Hank huffed again and pressed the bridge of his nose; The red LED on the HK800's temple shone against the window.

"What are you getting at, GV200?" He turned around to look at the other model between the seats, frowning and lifting his upper lip in annoyance, but quickly flatten once he realized Gavin's LED was showing, just as red as his.

Hank paused and then spoke again in a much friendlier and complicit tone. "I hate it.”

"Me too…"

"Good that we agree on something for a change."

Hank huffed a little laugh, and Gavin chuckled, scratching his neck a tad embarrassed. Both LEDs returned to a steadier yellow.

"Are you ever going to be truth full to the detective?" he dared to ask. 

He knew Gavin still hated him, ever bitter about what he considered an unforgivable betrayal, but they had more in common than the obvious fact of both being android detectives. They were dating the Anderson brothers after all.  
The ex-deviant hunter considered Richard an intelligent and dedicated detective, and he admired his perseverance and analytic personality. But he also had an unspoken gratitude to him for how much care he held for the older Anderson. He knew that was something to be expected from human siblings, but he couldn't help but feel a mutual affinity for Kent when Connor loved him so much.

Why someone like down-to-earth and rigorous Richard would choose to be with such a disorganized and temperamental android like Gavin was something that intrigued the HK model. And although he did not considered Gavin his friend, and certainly the GV200 didn't either, he wished him well.

Hence, when he had asked that, he was genuinely worried about him.

Reed was silent for a moment, which surprised Hank, who thought he would yell and get defensive about it immediately. He could sense his stress peak for a few seconds before settling back to baseline.

"No."

"Why not?"

"We're just fooling around, nothing serious." It was the first time Gavin had spoken openly about his involvement with the human. "He's not a commitment-kinda guy, and I'm damn sure not getting attached to a damned human… so – No."

"But you are already attached to him. Aren't you?" Hank pushed a little, walking on the thin ice that was Gavin's temper.

Another paused, longer—Nod.

"And he, on the other hand, did do everything in his power to bring you back.” Gavin grunted in reply. “Don’t you think there’s a strong possibility he does hold feeling for you? Logically thinking…”

He shied away from his words and opened his mouth to speak when Connor's voice, louder than theirs, filled the car.

"Hank, Reed… be my eyes, is there anyone watching me?" said the lieutenant, having escaped from the lady and stumbling in a flawlessly acted drunk trance towards the bathroom. Practice makes perfect, and Connor had plenty of that.

"Coast clear, Anderson… what are ya' gonna do?"

"I want to see if I can sneak through that door."

"Be careful, Connor," Hank's voice remained calm and professional, but he tightened his grip around the tablet, watching as Connor change course once again and headed for the door with the PRIVATE sign hanging across it. He had work to do.

_Work—_

Connor had wanted to be a police officer since he turned five. And yes, a significant part of his decision was due to the influence of his father and grandfather, but also because he found himself intrigued and challenged by mysteries and puzzles from a very young age.   
From Nancy Drew, to Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie, to CSI and FBI most wanted, and many amateur sleuth and true crime websites, he had spent most of his childhood and adolescence entranced by deduction and logical thinking.   
He was clever -outstandingly clever- and things that seemed unsolvable to most people were evident to him. His way of thinking was peculiar – His mother usually said everything about him was peculiar- and he excelled at his work. However, this came at a high cost.

He didn't work, he _obsessed_ over things, and could spend days working cases without sleeping, without taking breaks, altogether disregarding his own wellbeing.   
Therefore, he had no girlfriend, had very few close friends who would tolerate that he could disappear completely from the face of the earth for weeks at a time, and a disastrous relationship with his mother.  
It was a very solitary life… But he didn't mind.

Or at least that's what he thought, until a misfortunate event led him to lose his right leg, jeopardizing what had become his entire life – His job.  
  
He couldn't fathom the idea of spending his days bound to a wheelchair, to a cane, to a desk job if he was lucky enough not to be forced into early retirement. The dreadful stupor in which he had drowned for the first few days was replaced by manic hope when the prosthesis was suggested. And he took it - no questions asked - as long as it allowed him to return to the DPD.

The pain was something he had never expected. He had had bad injuries before- had broken a clavicle playing hockey, and even gotten shot on his first year on the job. But the post-operatory of the thirium barrier attachment was hell on earth. It burned, it stung, it made his leg spasm to the point he couldn't even breathe, rolling in the hospital bed and screaming his lungs out against the pillow.  
But he pushed through – no complaints, no tears, not saying anything to his doctor or Richard, who came every day to see him.

That had been a whole different ride that left him trembling and sweating; just standing on his two feet for more than a minute made him feel as if his leg had been submerged in boiling water. He had stared at his tender skin, the strange union between his limb and the hard surface of the biocomponent, and thought it looked revolting.   
He tried no to look at it or to think much about it at all. His only solace was the IV pump next to him, and GOD! Was morphine good.

Lily, the physical therapist, helped a lot, always encouraging, always there to help him when his leg gave out. He realized that things were getting out of hand when he overhead her talk to his doctor about his mental health.

_"He's pushing himself too much; I'm afraid he'll crumble when he realizes there's no going back to his previous self […]"_  
_"I've told him several times that we have to stay optimistic but that his goals must be realistic [...]"_  
_"He's in denial […] "_  
_"He's in much more pain than he relates, and he's using more and more medications."_

He made extra sure to play down his symptoms from then on, but he noticed the impact the lowering of his pain medication had. And it was bad.

Outside the hospital, he spiraled out of control. His doctor had prescribed him pain medication, and Lily kept tabs on him every time he went to therapy with her. But outside, he pushed himself beyond any limits, more hours, more weight, more reps – and in consequence, more tablets, only to get out of bed.  
Buying oxy on the street was the lowest he had fallen.

  
"Lieutenant, you are free to proceed." 

Hank's voice was a whisper in his ear, and he took his chance to dart between the tables, skipping over the railing and into the backstage. He felt the adrenaline kick in, and he smiled softly, the thrill of the chase pumping through his veins.

He reached the door with the private sign and checked the doorknob. It turned without a problem.

"I'm in," he hushed, carefully inspecting his surroundings.

"Roger, Lieutenant… we'll keep watch."

_Hank—_

Hank was the most annoying, most irritating, and stubborn android the lieutenant had ever met, and he had hated him the moment he stepped into Jimmy’s looking for him.  
The way he had tried to connect to him, asking about his music taste, Sumo, and his work at the DPD, had put him on edge since de beginning. Why was this android trying to get to know him? Was it some kind of CyberLife trick? He didn't trust him and made damned sure he knew it.   
Part of his bad blood towards the HK800 was shame. He reminded of the reason behind Captain Stern's decision to pair him with an android: she had lost so much faith in her lieutenant that she thought he needed a fucking nanny to get by. It was humiliating.

And then the fucker had rescued him from that ledge, letting their suspect run away. He had felt a mixture of self-deprecation for being unable to keep pace with them and gratefulness to him- so he thanked him. And maybe that was the turning point for Connor.

He had rescued him; he had protected him, and yet he did not look down on him. Hank, with his naivety towards life, looked at Connor every time something bewildered him, sometimes gladly surprised, and others worried and sad. He saw the android struggled with his sense of right and wrong during the deviant investigation, growing ever restless with the idea of stopping his own people, to finally realize he was a deviant himself.

He felt the world collapse around him at the Cyberlife tower, just to be caught by Hank's arms once more. Hugging him in the middle of the street after the revolution only solidified the suspicion that had started growing inside him.

  
"Lieutenant, have you ever been in love?" Hank had asked him one December afternoon, as he was trying to fix a broken pipe under the sink. He had almost hit his head against it.

"Like… loving someone?" He asked, although his question did not clarify anything. Hank had nodded, crouching to the ground to be on eye level with him. He knew he was blushing and was sure the android could hear his heart as he himself could.

"No; I mean, yes! I've had a few girlfriends in the past and such. But I'm not very good at dating. I'm- …too weird."

In fact, he had had three girlfriends in his entire life. Sarah, his high school sweetheart; Penny, a fellow officer he met at the academy; and Tamara, a court secretary he'd only dated for two months, the breakup so bitter that he had been single ever since.  
Unlike his brother, he was a serial monogamist who wasn't comfortable with one-night stands ... and had never even kissed a guy.

"I don't find you weird, lieutenant."

"Connor, Hank. At home, you call me Connor, remember?" He said, trying to divert the line of questioning. Hank nodded obediently, not too different from Sumo.

"Connor," he began, and the way he said his name did nothing to quell the lieutenant. "How do you know you're in love with someone?"

"Why are you asking me this? Just... google it or something," he had dismissed the question, almost running from the kitchen and leaving the sink as it was. But he instead turned to the fridge and took a beer, opening the can and taking a sip.

"Oh! I did. I fact, I've been reading extensively about the subject. But although the descriptions both in old in recent literature are beautiful, and scientific research is very accurate in describing the physiology behind it, I find myself feeling unsatisfied with the explanation," Hank said, leaning against the counter across the kitchen.

“Why suddenly so much interest?”

“I’m trying to understand all kinds of feelings.”

"Uh, okay… well," Connor sat at the kitchen table, playing with the tab of the can. "Reading something isn't the same as experiencing it, like-… look! What is this?" He asked, holding his beer up.

"Barley lager beer- Barley _Hordeum vulgare_ , Hops _Humulus Lupulus_ , Yeast _Saccharomyces cerevisiae_ , and water. Carbs 1.8; Alcohol 2,4%, calories-"

"Okay, okay… no need to be a smartass," the lieutenant rolled his eyes and snorted. "You clearly know what this is, but it's different to tasting it. I mean, I can describe to you what it tastes like, but it won't be the same as experiencing it. Oh, shit! Sorry. That was rude."

"It's okay; it doesn't bother me being unable to taste food," Hank said, without changing his expression. "Would you describe it to me? Your opinion ..."

"My… my opinion on love? Damn, that's a tough question." Connor rolled the can in his hands nervously. "I mean, there are different types of love ..."

 _"Storge, pragma, philia, eros…_ "

"What?"

"Greeks identified a variety of categories in love; for example, philia was described as the loyalty between friends, siblings, or a community. Whereas Eros was primarily sexual passion. "

"Right! That's a good example... so, you know the difference between liking and disliking someone?" Asked Connor, looking at the android in front of him, his calm blue eyes matching his LED.

"Yes- I really dislike Chloe Kamski." His LED flickered red and returned to blue in less than a second, making Connor snicker.

"Yeah, me too."

A yap; Sumo had come into the kitchen and was rolling on the floor, trying to get Hank's attention. The stoic expression on the android's face transformed into a warm smile.

"And I like Sumo," he continued, kneeling to lift the energetic corgi into his arms, scratching him behind the ears.

"That's-… not exactly what I meant, but alright."

"Please proceed, Lieutenant."

"The Greeks had it right. Even when you like someone, there are different meanings in it. You can care about your friends, respect and admire a coworker, love a sibling, for example. And as such, there are different ways to express it, depending on the kind of love you feel.”

Hank nodded, paying full attention to him, so he continued with much more confidence.

"But I think –personally, that all of them have in common you'd give a significant part of your time or even your life itself for that person. And you find yourself happy about that. Caring for them, enjoying their company, trusting them. I guess that's what love represents to me, broadly speaking." He finalized, playing with the can again.

"But romantic love is different…"

"Yeah, it implies a whole level of different things… like committing to only one person or engaging in physical acts like hugging, kissing and- you know...” He drank, feeling his cheeks turning hot. “Though some people have more than one partner, and others have romantic interests but are asexual. I dunno, Hank. I'm bad at being a human, and this is really difficult to explain. You asked the wrong person!" Exclaimed the younger male, noticing that his explanation was not only getting weirder and harder to follow, but he was growing agitated.

He lifted his eyes, his cheeks burning hot, and looked at the stoic figure before him.

"On the contrary, Lieutenant. I think I understand now…" The HK800 knelt down and let the dog trot away to then walk towards the table, two steps enough to make his way to the human’s side. 

Connor shied away from him, looking up at the tall android that towered over him like a monolith. He felt a mixture of panic and anxiousness every time he was this near; he knew the android could hear his heart.  
Hank was so much bigger and broader than him, even more noticeable now that he was sitting. He could've easily crush him with one arm, envelop his wrists with one of his hands and pin him down without breaking a sweat.  
But when Hank hugged him that cold November morning, he felt warm and safe, feeling him shiver in his arms as he hid his face in the crook of his neck. And Connor had wanted to transmit the same sense of shelter, to make him feel safe too.  
They had stayed like this for longer than he intended.

And now, Hank was looking at him in a way not so different from that day. When he spoke, he was looking straight at him.  
"I love you, Lieutenant."

"Uh, okay." He’d said that with such a simplicity that Connor thought he had misheard, and it took him a couple of seconds to register what he actually meant. "You mean you like me… like that friendship thing…"

"No," Hank interrupted, still looking at him with curious eyes. "In a romantic way."

"Oh! Oh… okay," Connor repeated. Fight or fly, he thought unconsciously, but couldn't do either. Hank grabbed onto the table and got a little closer.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you feel the same. Don't you, Lieutenant?"

He tried to say something, anything! But all that came out from his lips was a tiny whimper. He was so, so bad at this.

"I know you like me, but I had my doubts if your feelings towards me were friendship, romantic, or sexual… I have the impression they are a mixture of the three, am I correct?"

The android leaned down a little, affectively entering into Connor's personal space, and he lost it, scooting back and knocking the beer from the table with his arm. Hank didn't seem to mind, his calm blue eyes fixed on the lieutenant's face.

"Connor."

"I-… I-!"

Hank made the most soft and caring smile he had ever seen him do, so different to the awkward half-smiles he managed to pull on command, and his big hand moved to the lieutenant's chin, gently raising his face.

"It's was your body language that first made me suspect my feelings were not unrequited. Your heart beats fast around me, you look at me, you care about me." He smiled again. "You were willing to die for me in that tower."

"You too…"

"Yes." He stroked his cheek with his thumb. “I am going to kiss you now, Connor.”

And he kissed him, short and raw, for a few seconds, and then took a step away to look at him once more.

"Are you okay, Lieutenant?"

Connor nodded, stood up, and kissed him again.

The sink was not fixed that day. 

  
"I have very poor visibility. Can you see anything?" the lieutenant asked over the radio. He pressed his hand to the wall to help him navigate through the dark, slowly walking down a long hallway. It reeked of humidity and gasoline.

"Yeah, don't worry about us… as long as you can see, we can see ten times better," replied Reed, a little friendlier than usual. That made Connor realize how dangerous what he was doing really was.

The hallway led to a small hall with three doors on each wall. The lighting was odd, casting strange shadows on the concrete walls that made his own look distorted. A foreboding sensation, like a bad omen, settled over the lieutenant's shoulder as he made his way deeper through the hall.  
This place looked nothing like the backstage he thought he was entering.

Suddenly, the smell of gasoline grew a little stronger, making him turn his nose in disgust to the door where the stench was emanating; he could hear the distant sounds of machinery behind the heavy metal door.  
He tried the knob, but it was locked.

He turned and reached for the second door, a plain wooden one. He had just extended his hand when it opened by itself, and with only a split second to act, managed to press himself between the wall and the door, hoping the darkness was enough to hide him.

He held his breath, praying they wouldn't hear his heart.  
Two men and a woman, she smaller and trapped between the other two. The man on the right said something in Chinese Connor couldn't make out; he sounded angry, and the woman replied in an equally hostile tone. They walked away so fast that he couldn't hear the rest of the conversation.

"Did you get that?"

"Yeah. He said _< <Two is not enough.>>_ And she replied _< <Two is what we got…>>. <<Then you better make six next week,>>"_ translated Gavin. "I couldn't hear the rest over the sound of that fucking engine. What is that!?"

"They left the door open."

"You better get moving, Anderson… I don't think those three are going very far."

Connor pressed forward. He opened the door and walked into the room, not knowing what to expect. His detective instinct had kicked in and had outweigh any regard for his well being.   
It was pitch black inside, and his eyes took a while to adjust to it, but Gavin's exclamation gave him an anticipated idea of what to expect.

"Fucking Christ…"

He turned on the light on his cell phone and then understood why.

Metal cases. About twenty or twenty-five carefully arranged to a side of this service room. Connor had seen some similar containers before, and his first thoughts went straight to an illegal weapon dealing until he realized that one of them was open, _glowing_.

Inside it was what he could only describe as a spinal cord, complete with its nerves protruding from each disc and the brain stem at the far end. The whole thing was floating inside a thirium vial carefully tucked into the foam, giving out a dull blue glow. Connor had never seen an android's main nervous component and wished he would never see it again.

“Christ…”

"Connor, get out!" Hank's voice snapped him out of his stupor, catching on the footsteps quickly approaching the room.

"No time!" Gavin joined in, "To your left! Hide behind that big crate!"

He made a b line to his left, jumping over the crate and landing on the other side just in time as the same petite woman reentered the room. He could see her now- a middle-aged Asian woman with shoulder-length hair and an inexpressive face.

She reached the table where the open container was and closed it. She drummed her finger over the cover and, with a tired huff, took the case under her arm, walking away from the room, not even glaring towards Connor's hiding place.

The door closed, and he heard the distinctive sound of a lock.  
He was trapped.

"Shit… Hank, we gotta problem here," mumbled Gavin.

"Don't you think I noticed already!?" snapped the other android, frowning and staring at the tablet with growing apprehension. He opened the car door, willing to ram into the club to rescue the trapped lieutenant. Undercover operation be damned.

"Chill, I can get myself out," Connor replied, coming out of hiding cautiously and crouching by the door.  
He inspected the lock under his phone light, rummaging through his jacket pocket and pulling out an old, scraped subway card. The number of times he had opened his front door with that card was something he shouldn't be proud of, being a law enforcement officer.

"Nines is better than me at this, but I'm not half bad," he said, managing to slide the card between the crack.

"Just-... get out of there, Lieutenant; We have enough information already."

"I'm on it. Hey, did you find out who she was?"

"Fa, Yung-Lin… Born in Hong-Kong, been living in the States for the past ten years. No records. She owns a massage parlor and the LOTUS," informed Gavin through his radio. “This woman is shady as fuck…”

"We'll look into it” Connor shook the door, trying to slide the card into the mechanism. “Shit, almost done! Luckily for me, it's not an electronic lock… Wait a sec-"

Kneeling down, and with the phone's flashlight on, something had caught the policeman's attention. He reached down to one of the cases and flashed the light over it. Faint and a bit faded, a logo stood out against the black background – A ship gently rocking through the waves with the TCS monotype around it.

"Well fucking done, Anderson!" Exclaimed Gavin, punching the seat in excitement.

"Get a move on!" insisted Hank once again, and this time Connor agreed, pushing the door open and running his way back to the front.

  
Cherry was unbuttoning Nines' dress shirt with a coy little smile, having already taken his thirty dollars without any intention to move from his lap (She was clearly set on taking more money from him) when a ruckus caused the entire club to turn to one side.

"Hey, hey! Calm down!... I was only looking for the bathroom, jeez!" a short, slim man had been thrown onto the floor, crashing into a table and knocking a few glasses down. Another man, the one that had gracefully thrown him, appeared from the door that said private and walked straight to the short male, ready to continue with his beating.

Richard got up quickly and ran to him, but Jerry had gotten there first and was helping a very drunk (or fake drunk) Connor to his feet.

"Whoops! So sorry, man ... my friend here is a real lightweight!" Jerry said, all smiles and giggles, throwing the shorter man's arm around his shoulders to lift him up.

"Get out of my club before I break your fucking legs!" The man shouted, pointing his finger at them with an angry frown.

"Hey, no need to get all confrontational!" insisted Jerry, as Nines appeared next to him to carry his older brother. "We'll pay and be on our way..."

"Get- the fuck- out!" shouted the man again, this time pushing Jerry on the chest. 

"Okay, okay! We're going!... come on," exclaimed the red-head, turning around and whispering under his breath. "Keep walking, don't say anything… Richard, keep calm. He's still watching us. We have to get past the bouncer and then bolt out of here."

"Where the fuck is Daniel?"

They passed the bouncer at the door when the previous man yelled something, approaching them at a brisk pace.

"Run."

They bolted down the street, Connor magically recovering from his drunken stupor to run across the street and into the waiting car, Daniel at the wheel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm so glad to see people coming to read this second part! Sorry it took me a little to update, my laptop has been having issues, but my plan is to post a chapter every two weeks consistently.  
> Thank you for your support; It means a lot to me and brings a smile to my face.


	4. Relation status

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's troubles are becoming apparent, but he keeps them to himself.

Date:  
 ** _May 15th,_** _2039_  
Time:  
 _AM_ ** _02:12:_** _31_

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, try not to move. I'm almost done," the HK800 apologized, tossing the rubbing alcohol pad in the trash. The cut wasn't as bad as he'd thought, but the scalp always bled heavily, and they'd made a mess on Connor's desk.

"How are you feeling?" Richard asked, approaching his brother with a glass of water and poorly dissimulated concern on his face.

"I’ll live; it's just a cut," the lieutenant replied, staring at himself on the monitor of his terminal.

"You won't need stitches, Lieutenant," reassured his partner with a tiny smile, cleaning his hands and throwing the rest of the used medical supplies into the trash.

They sat around one of the smartboards, the footage from Connor's cam playing for the three humans to catch up with what had happened in the club's backroom and what he had found.

The man who had caught Connor just as he was leaving the restricted area was one of the two he had seen arguing with the woman. His name was Cheung "David" Shiu-Yuen, as Gavin and Hank had been able to identify, and although he had a questionable record, he had never been successfully convicted.

Tall, almost as tall as Richard, and as muscular as the detective, Cheung was an imposing young man. Connor had barely any time to react when he had run face-first into him as he made his way back through the backroom's hallways. He had grabbed the short male by the scruff of his shirt, dragging him away from the backroom.   
Luckily, the officer had put up such a convincing performance that he hadn't suspected a thing.  
Running away without paying for their drinks was the last thing on Connor's mind as Daniel sped down the street toward the precinct, Gavin and Hank tailing them in the Lincoln.

"You deserve a medal, Daniel. That evac was perfectly timed," exclaimed Jerry, sitting on Hank's desk and swinging his leg back and forth like a child, but his blonde partner didn't seem moved by the compliment, frowning and drinking a cup of coffee.

"With all due respect, but for three senior officers, you are all a damned mess," he muttered under his breath, and Gavin, head down on the terminal reviewing the footage, laughed out loud.

"You see, Nines? I'm not the only one who thinks that." He grinned without turning, with his eyes fixed on the screen.

"However, what the lieutenant found made it worthwhile," Daniel admitted, softly sighing as he finished his coffee. "... a bit disturbing, though."

Connor nodded, turning around to the still-frame showing on the smartboard, components floating in thirium like a specimen in a jar. “We’re on a good track, but it’s not concrete evidence of illegal trade,” he replied warily.

"Well, I'm going home," said Jerry, jumping off the desk and turning to Daniel. "C'mon, Dani… I'll drive you."

Both officers stood up and grabbed their jackets, ready to head out. Jerry seemed to want to ask something else, but instead shrugged, his carefree smile contrasting with Daniel's worried and tired frown.

"See you Monday, guys! Nines, have a safe trip back to Quantico." 

"We should do the same," agreed the FBI agent, letting out a tired huff. He felt beaten and on edge, but he had kept himself together tonight. Even when Connor got hurt, and the adrenaline raced through his blood, he had kept his composure.

"Yeah, enough fun for one night," Connor groaned, grabbing his jacket and turning to the taller android. "You're staying?"

"Yes, I want to review the footage, and it's faster here than at home. Gavin will help me."

"You sure you wanna stay with him all night?" Connor snorted, getting a little closer to Hank and giving him a playful smile.

"I'll survive. I'm used to dealing with- … challenging people."

"Oh! Very funny, smartass… you're a comedian now?" 

Connor and Hank stood close to each other, his brother subtly holding Hank's forearm as they chatted. Their conversation had turned domestic and a bit private for Richard to listen, so he took a step back. He turned to Gavin.

"I'm staying too," he said bluntly before the human could even ask him, "It's faster if two androids sort this through than one, if you intend to have it done in one night."

Evidently, his relation with Gavin was entirely different from Hank and Connor’s.

"I can stay and help you two."

"No offense, Meat sack. But I can do in a minute what you do in three hours. Better drive Anderson home yourself," suggested Gavin, signaling on his head the approximate location of Connor's wound. "You don't want him passing out at the wheel in the middle of the freeway…"

He growled. He didn't like being bossed around, especially if it came from a presumptuous android who minimized his abilities. But Richard was a logical man rather than an emotional one, and he was able to rationalize that the GV200 was right.  
That didn't mean it didn't piss him off.

"Send me the footage anyway; if I'm not going to sleep, I'd rather be doing something useful."

Gavin stopped, straightened, and turned in his chair to look at him. His LED swirled a few times, and Richard expected him to start an argument, but he just nodded.

"It's in your email."

"Thank you."

"Sure. Now, go. I got work to do."

"Have a good night."

He waited a couple of seconds, but the android said nothing more, instead turning back to the terminal and continuing his job.  
Richard had expected-

_No. I expected nothing._

He cut off that train of thought and didn't give his mind time to wonder about anything else, grabbing his jacket from the chair and nodding to Hank, waiting for his brother to join him before closing the door behind him.

  
The drive to Connor's house was short. At three in the morning, the streets were mostly empty in that part of town, and Nines drove in silence. He knew the road by heart.  
Connor relaxed in the Lincoln's passenger seat, still holding the back of his head in a bit of pain. He patted his side pocket for his cigarettes but decided to leave them there.

"You can smoke," Richard said without looking at him, signaling to turn at an intersection.

"I don't want to tempt you." Connor looked at his brother, his serious demeanor a little stiffer than usual. Richard's finger was tapping the steering wheel in a constant pattern. _Nine taps- stop- nine taps._

He sighed and pulled the package out of his pocket, tapping the bottom so that one of the slim cylinders stuck out enough to grab it. He put one between his lips and lit it, extending the smoke to the other man. Richard took it, embarrassed.

The first drag felt like kissing a long-lost lover: sweet and regrettable. Connor lit another, and they smoked in silence, waiting for the light to turn green.

"I'm fine, really," Richard said spontaneously, and Connor nodded. It was easier to get Nines to talk by giving him space; questioning or harassing the younger detective would only make him withdraw.

"It wasn't too much? Tonight's gig, I mean."

"No. I thought it might be, at some point, but it felt calm ... until that guy kicked you across the bar, then I did get mad," he admitted, turning to give his brother a small smile.

"I had to play along; it wouldn't have been convincing if I had gone from piss-drunk to fight mode."

"Connor, you've kicked my ass while drunk more times than I can remember," Nines laughed, parking his car in the driveway, flickering the ashes of his cigarette. "Thank you for letting me go with you. In a way, I guess I felt in control because I knew you were around, and the others were backing us up at all times."

"And Reed was not there… right?"

He turned to him, surprised and a little uncomfortable. Unknowingly, he had raised a hand and innocently touched his right temple; so used was he to look at Gavin's LED to read his emotions, that somehow felt like he had one as well, telling everyone what he was feeling.

"Relax. I know you, Nines, and I figured not having Gavin in the line of fire would be one less thing for you to worry about," he shrugged. "Guess it worked."

"Yeah, it did." Sometimes he forgot that Connor was not only older but superior in rank and with 14 years of service; his knowledge came from both experience and talent. Plus, he had 33 years of being his brother, which gave him some credence too.  
Connor patted his shoulder and opened the passenger door. He turned to him.

"You wanna stay with me? I'll make pancakes in the morning."

"I got to go back; my cat always breaks something in retaliation if she's alone for too long." It wasn't a lie, but it was an excuse.

"Cat lady," Connor teased. "Get some rest, Nines. Love you."

"Good night, Con. Please take care of your wound." 

They said their goodbyes, and the detective drove back to his apartment on autopilot, dragging his feet to the door. As much as he had reassured his brother that he was alright, deep down had an oppressive sensation that he knew all too well.  
He wasn’t sleeping tonight; that was a given, and(regardless of the stress he might have developed during the night) he never slept much without Gavin’s presence. That was one of the reasons he turned down Connor's proposal; waking up his brother in the middle of the night was not something he looked forward to.

Once he got inside and did his usual routine- Badge, gun, close the door, checking lock nine times- he opened the fridge, taking out the carton of apple juice, and scooped Bucket into his arms. He sat on the couch, petting the cat’s back.

"You didn't break anything? I'm surprised," he cooed the cat, scratching her under the chin. She purred happily, kneading Nines' leg with her paws and claws.

"Bucket, girl, you're hurting me… come on," He wince and carefully set the cat beside him. He reached for the phone from his jacket and saw he had mail. It took him a moment to remember who it belonged to.

_From: GV200 (72210720227@CyberlifeA.com)_   
_Subject: ALBINO MIDGET PORN_

_If you can't sleep, tip the jar_   
_I already did_   
_See you in the morning for a Sunday nap <3_

_GV._   
_[Attached file 1 of 71]_

"Damn toaster," Richard laughed as he reddened a little, feeling stupid at how much his mood could change with something so simple. The android had typed that while talking to him and keeping a straight face, probably knowing how jumpy he felt but saying nothing in front of the other officers as not to embarrass him.  
He appreciated that.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen counter.   
The Jar was a digital piggy bank Gavin had bought from who-knows-where about four months ago, when they started betting on their nightmares. The agreement was that whoever lost had to put $ 5 in the jar, by transfer or in cash. So far, they had 325 dollars and 8 cents (those 8 cents were Bucket's, who had twice jumped in her sleep, and they had counted it as a nightmare).  
What they planned to do with that money changed every few days. Sometimes Gavin insisted on starting a business, and others, he said they should buy a yacht and travel the world. Lately, he had settled on the idea of going to Hawaii with Nines, not minding that his partner could barely tolerate temperatures over 70°F.   
No matter how ridiculous his ideas were, they always included the detective.

He tapped the small screen on the jar and saw the deposit history; Gavin had put in $ 5 that night, and he proceeded to do the same, taking a picture of and sending it to him.

**_9:_ **   
_[Image attached]_   
_Done._   
_03:32 **√√**_

  
**_GV200 Gavin:_ **   
_$10 closer to Hawaii, babe!_   
_03:32 **√√**_   
_Hey, try to sleep a bit_   
_03:32 **√√**_

  
**_9:_ **   
_And risk losing another $5? I'd rather not._   
_03:32 **√√**_   
_Today's "scouting job" already cost me $30+._   
_03:33 **√√**_

  
**_GV200 Gavin:_ **   
_Perv_   
_03:33 **√√**_

Richard smiled again, grabbing his laptop and downloading the files he'd sent him. He took that time to shower, getting rid of the terribly sweet perfume one of the girls was wearing, as well as the smoke, liquor, and other scents that had stuck to his skin and hair.   
However, it didn't matter if he showered twenty times; Gavin would know he had been smoking. He always found out.  
Since Gavin’s revival, Richard had picked up smoking again from time to time. He blamed the android for stressing him out, and in retaliation, the GV200 made him double tip the jar for each smoke.

He dried his hair with a towel and sat back down on the couch, reaching for his phone.

  
_**9:** _   
_Have you found anything else on TCS?_   
_03:35 **√√**_

  
**_GV200 Gavin:_ **   
_Nothing_   
_03:35 **√√**_   
_Just working on identifying any visible face, getting to know my new co-workers and the local pervs_   
_03:35 **√√**_   
_At least we know we are on the right track_   
_03:35 **√√**_   
_I don't give two shit what the CSI guy says; those biocomponents were stolen from free androids to be resold_   
_03:35 **√√**_   
_or shipped to fuck-knows-where-Ville._   
_03:35 **√√**_   
_I'll bet my thirium pump on it_   
_03:35 **√√**_

  
_**9:** _   
_Take it easy; you still don't know where they got those components from. There's a chance that, even if they're doing something illegal, those parts are of Asian production, and that's outside our jurisdiction-_

He re-read the unsent text and erased it. Pondering for a moment, he typed again.

_**9:** _   
_I side with you that there's something illegal happening here, but let's wait till finding hard evidence before jumping to conclusions._   
_03:38 **√√**_   
_Get a solid case- jail the fucker. 100% success ratio._   
_03:38 **√√**_

He could imagine Gavin rolling his eyes at him, groaning and throwing his hands up in the air in frustration because he was so "thorough and cautious", and sometimes things just needed to be done, and how stubborn he could be.   
That's why they were a good team; they balanced each other.

**_GV200 Gavin:_ **   
_Now I understand why I don't get to top…_   
_I wouldn't be able to get the stick out of your ass_   
_03:40 **√√**_

Richard laughed out loud, shaking his head and putting the phone down beside him, leaning back on the couch as his laptop made a little ping announcing the files had been downloaded successfully. He made himself comfortable and played Connor's footage.

It was going to be a long night.

\--------------------

Date:  
 _ **May 15th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
 _AM **03:33:** 31_

Gavin kept his eyes strained on the screen showing the cleaned footage. After running the video throw some color and resolution enhancements, the final result was much easier to scan for faces and distinguishable features, and he was quick to cross-check them against police records.

No one inside the club was of particular relevance, most of them petty criminals or just white-collared men going out for a day of fun, too tired, old, or uninterest to find an actual partner to get laid. Every time he got a hit on a face, he sent the information into a separate file for later background search. It was a quick yet superficial hunt.

Between each take, Gavin took the time to answer to Nines' texts, chuckling at his responses.

"Did Agent Kent and the lieutenant arrived home safely?" asked Hank, doing the exact same job on the desk at his right. The work truly became faster if done by two.

"You know they did; you gotta damn tracker on Anderson, don't you? Psycho," he replied, identifying yet another face. He blinked, pushing away from the desk and rubbing his eyes in an unnecessary gesture.

"Hey, have you talked to Kara about what's going on? Or New Jericho legal aid?" he asked Hank, getting up from the chair to take a little break.

"Not yet; I didn't want to bother her with something we weren't entirely sure of," Hank replied, turning away from the screen to face the younger model. "She's been dealing with a lot since the hostage situation in San Francisco. She hasn't been back to Detroit since."

About two weeks ago, a group of extremist androids had taken two humans hostage on the Golden Gate Bridge, never making any formal demands and refusing to speak to law enforcement. They proclaimed themselves to be part of the Free Android Movement, a group of dissident android characterized by their radical and often violent approach towards humans involved in crimes during the uprising.   
It had been front news, Kara trying to speak directly to them, the four figures surrounded by law enforcement and SWAT teams, the traffic completely halted in the middle of the bridge. But it had all ended in tragedy.   
The androids had killed both humans and then themselves, claiming this was just the beginning, and more killings would follow if the government didn't take more drastic measures to prosecute crimes committed against them.

The political climate had been tense ever since, putting Kara and deviants back in the eye of public scrutiny.

"Yeah… I sent Kara a text, but I guess she must be overwhelmed," he agreed, spinning on his chair. "Hey, do you mind if a talk to North about this? Ripple suggested I ask her for advice on how to blend in… and she's my partner, it feels wrong to be working with her ex behind her back."

The other tilted his head slightly to a side and raised an eyebrow. For a deviant, Hank was still very much inexperienced with emoting; his smiles were eerie, he struggled with winking and couldn't manage to do so without wrinkling his face as if he'd bitten into a lemon.

"Isn't that footage enough information to recreate their way of acting? As far as I know, part of your adaptation software is based on a Tracis' engaging software."  
Gavin frowned, blushing slightly.

"It ain't the same. I'm- … look, I just want her to know 'cause she's my friend, and we're working with her ex."

Hank still looked oblivious.

"If North is no longer romantically involved with Ripple, why would that be a problem for her?" From the android's tone, Gavin could tell that he hadn't really grasped what the problem was. He breathed in and relaxed before replying.

"Look. Even after breaking up, humans don't straight out forget about their ex-partners… they often feel jealous, and depending on how they broke up, they may still be hoping for a second chance. You dig?"

"I guess… it makes sense," he finally nodded. 

Three hours passed before Hank spoke again, picking up the thread of the conversation they had been having as if no time had passed. It wasn't as weird as it sounds; androids often did that as their concept of time was different.

"Humans are capricious creatures, don't you think?” He said, letting his hair down to tie it back up again, his gaze lost in contemplation. “Feeling entitled to someone's care and love because of their own sentiments. They live for such a short time! I guess they wish to cling to what they've while they still can."

"You're a fucking creep, Hank," Gavin exclaimed, cutting the other android's poetic reflection. The subject was making him uncomfortable; he knew well enough that humans were erratic with their wishes and feelings. Even he, who considered himself used to human behavior, had trouble understanding the human mind. "But yeah, humans are… inconsistent. I don't completely understand them either."

"That's recomforting!" Hank exclaimed with a smile. "I spend so much time with humans that I often ignore what other androids think… and I get overwhelmed at New Jericho."

"Ditto.” 

Androids could communicate through several forms- verbal, shortwave, interfacing, sometimes all the three at the same time. For androids who mainly socialize with other androids, this was the general norm; however, for Gavin (and Hank apparently,) that could be exhausting.

"You can tell Detective Collins about the case; it's not a secret, and she might be able to give us another view on all of this."

"You mean… a female vision?"

"I haven't thought about that."

"Shit, and you're the damn deviant. Am I a joke to you, rA9?" he asked to the sky in general, making a dramatic gesture. He stood up and took his jacket from the back of his chair. It was 7 a.m, and they had finally finished their work. "I'm going home, Hank… don't bother me until Monday, okay?"

"Thank you for your help, Gavin… and get into stasis ASAP! Processing all this information created a shit-ton of useless temporary files."

Gavin chuckled (it was always fun to hear Hank curse) and waved his hand dismissively.

"Yeah, sure."

  
He wanted nothing more than go back to Nines' apartment to shower, change his clothes, and nap (with the possibility of a few other sexual activities in between) but instead took a taxi to the Eastern Market, hoping to find North at her place. Better get it done as soon as possible, he decided.

**_Sexiest toaster:_ **   
_u up?_   
_07:02 **√√**_   
_I'm headed to ur place_   
_07:02 **√√**_

**_Baby girl:_ **   
_Running_   
_brb_   
_07:03 **√√** _

He leaned back in the seat and tried defragmenting his disk manually, without going into stasis. It was an extremely slow process, handpicking files and rearranging them contiguously inside his head to make more space. It was like playing Tetris with his own thoughts.

**_Manual defragmentation in process…_ **   
_10 of 48798935 files_   
_WARNING_   
_Error detected on Core Memory System._   
_File X2ft5523YnZ.08 corrupted._   
_File X2ft5523YnZ.08 couldn't be repaired. Do you want to delete file X2ft5523YnZ.08 [ **Y** /N]?_   
**_Defragmentation canceled._ **

" _Phuck_ … not again," he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration, aborting the whole process.

He exited the cab and sat on the steps of North's building, the streets empty but littered with signs of last night's festivities. Eastern Market had a lively nightlife, and he often spent Friday nights with North at the local pub, since they both lived only a few blocks apart- that when Richard wasn't in town.

He put a piece of gum in his mouth and toyed with the idea of texting his partner; when he saw the woman appear on the corner, trotting towards him with a steady pace, her face flushed from exercise.

"Hey! What are you doing here so early in the morning? Did Nines kick you out?" she greeted, a little out of breath, stopping next to him and resting on her knees.

"I have my own place, you know?" Gavin replied dismissively and dodge a hug from her. "You're sweaty! C'mon, go shower."

"Tsk! Yes, daddy,” the woman teased back, opening the front door and climbing up the three floors to her apartment.

She lived in a two-story loft not much bigger than Gavin's but definitively more aesthetically pleasing. The kitchenette opened into a cozy living room with a couch and a tv set; a slim spiral staircase at the back led to North's bedroom.  
It took her a while to find a thirium bottle in the mess of the kitchen, a good stack of dirty dishes in the sink, but she finally found one in the cupboard and tossed it to Gavin, grabbing a water bottle for herself. They sat at the kitchen counter.

"What is it, Gav? You can't fool me…" she said, a tiny smile on her face. 

North was a tall girl, fit, and overall the athletic type; Gavin believed she was conventionally attractive, but he couldn't see her as anything but a friend. People generally agreed that she had an explosive temper, just like him, and when the two fought, the earth trembled. Detective North Collins was Gavin's best friend, although he had to share her with Nines.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure, what is it?" She twisted the cap and drunk three long gulps, cooling down from her run. “You’re late and need me to buy you a pregnancy test?”

"It… happened again."

She stopped and pulled the bottle away from her mouth, setting it on the counter. Her joking face dissolved into a troubled frown, knitting her thin eyebrows and leaning towards Gavin a little more.

"Gav, is it getting worse?" she asked, reaching out to touch his forearm, but he backed away before she could.

"Not worse, just-…. It hasn't fixed itself as I thought it would. And I keep having to erase memory after memory, or my system starts to crash, and-… shit," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Gav ..." North reached for his arm again, and this time, he allowed it.

  
North and Ralph were the only ones that knew about it.

The first time it had happened had been around the first week of February, while working a homicide case near the Ambassador Bridge. North had asked him something mundane, and for the life of his, he couldn't remember the answer. Every time he tried to access the file containing that memory, his CPU bugged, and in the desperation of forcing the file open, he had rebooted in the middle of the street.  
When he came to, North was hysterical, shaking him and yelling his name. She was about to call for back-up when he stopped her. He had no idea what had happened to him but certainly wasn't going to let anyone know about it. He had just received his badge, and something like that might make the commissioner doubt his capacities as a detective; he wasn't risking his position.

He had made North promise not to tell Captain Stern, and she had relented, on the condition he go directly to Ralph to see what the problem was. But the engineer had been unable to find what was wrong with him.

"Ralph is really sorry," Had said the engineer, after running a complete test on him at his care clinic and finding nothing. "You said your memory got corrupted?"

"Yes. I couldn't repair it, and it started corrupting the memories in the adjoining extensions uncontrollably. I had to soft reset…"

"Hm, Ralph couldn't find anything on your code that showed what happened. No viruses, no bugs," he shrugged. "Maybe you should ask Jason to see you. He wrote your code, and he's most-"

"NO," replied the android, so loud that Ralph became startled and retreated into his desk. Gavin immediately lowered his voice. "No, it won't be necessary; it's probably a one-time error and nothing more." He had unplugged himself from the machine, ready to leave.

"You sure about it, Gavin?" 

"Yeah! Forget about it; alright, Ralph?" he insisted, patting the young man's shoulder.

"Alright. But if it keeps happening, please come to see Ralph. You're my friend; I worry."

"Thanks, man… I appreciate that. But trust me; it will fix itself."

But it hadn't. Instead, more and more files become corrupted, and he had to erase them, leaving holes in his everyday memory. He returned to Ralph, but again he couldn't find the source of the problem.

  
"It isn't consistent; sometimes it's a snippet of conversation, or an address, but it can also be something really important… and it keeps fucking happening! And the other night, it happened while I was with Nines," he confided, pushing away from her and drinking from his thirium bottle.

"Maybe you should tell him." The woman's face had concern written all over it.

"No fucking way," Reed cut her off, raising a menacing finger to her face as to illustrate how important it was that she did not open her mouth. "He's got enough going on in his own fuckup head to worry about an android with dementia."

"Gav…"

"Promise me, North… you won't tell a thing to Richard."

"He's my friend too! You're my friend! Why can't you talk things out like fucking adults!? I'm sure he'll be worried about you."

"Exactly what I'm trying to avoid."

He crushed the empty bottle in his hand and tossed it in the trash. His LED was steady red, and he knew it was showing, but he didn't care. North didn't need to see it to know he was upset.

"I won't tell him," she reluctantly agreed. "But not because you asked me, but because this is something you have to figure out yourself. There's something wrong with you, Gavin, and instead of asking for help, you're trying to fix it all by yourself."

"It's my god-damned problem! Of course I'll fix it myself…" he shouted.

"Don't you fucking raise your voice at me, Reed!" She exclaimed, slapping the android's hand away. "You know what? You and Richard deserve each other… the two of you are dumb, brick-headed, dipshits!"

Angry and frustrated, the woman got off the kitchen stool and headed for the stairs, stomping her feet on every step. The downstairs neighbor must be calling the police right now.

"Wait, North," he called, swallowing down his pride for once. "Sorry, I didn't come here to vent my problems… I actually have something to tell you."

“I don’t give a shit, Reed…”

“It’s about a case…”

"A case?" Suddenly, she was interested in him again, turning on her heels. "Daniel posted something about you two and Jerry going on a stakeout yesterday."

"Yeah, well…" He scratched his chin and played out every possible scenario to figure how to break the news to her in the friendliest way possible. "Sit down; I'll brief you on the case."  
North frowned and sat back on the kitchen stool.

"Hank and Anderson asked me to help them in an undercover job, and since that's my favorite thing to do, I said yes. Remember the disappearances those two were working on last week? Well… it's a lot more than just a few missing androids."

Gavin took the time to explain everything to North, just stopping for her to grab her notepad, scribbling down things that she considered important, twisting a lock of hair.

"So, your job is to infiltrate one of these businesses, the ones under this TCS corporate thing, right?"

"Yeah, and that's why I had to talk to you. My contact in this is Ripple, uh- …your ex." He waited for North to explode, to freak out, or get mad, not sure what her reaction would be. He never expected her to smile.

"Oh, I know that… she called me last night to talk about you."

"You knew? And you made me tell you all this for nothing?"

"Chill! I didn't know the extension of the case; Ripple didn't know either… but she did tell me she was going to work with you at LOTUS and to give you a makeover." She giggled, and a wistful little smile appeared on her lips. "Frankly, I felt a bit hurt that she hadn't contacted me first if she was having problems ... but she's like that."

"I've never asked you but, do you still, you know, hold feelings for her? Are you okay with her?" Asking these kinds of things to a friend was very different from interrogating a suspect; it required tact, and Gavin largely lacked that.  
North smiled and patted his hand.

"I still care a lot about her, and I fell head over heels in love with her. But we were really, and I mean really, bad together. A bad combination, you know? We brought out the worst in each other."

"Uh, right ... but are you still in touch?"

"Not until yesterday. What I knew about Ripple was mainly through Ralph, but she also cut ties with him after the revolution. That's Ripple; she's there one day and gone the other!" Gavin had never seen North so sad; as much as she says she was over Ripple, he had the impression not everything was said and done between the two women.

“You don’t have to—” North interrupted him.

"It won't be a problem. This is work, and I'll help you!"

"I've already studied what I have to do. I don't need coaching on how to take my clothes off," Reed grunted a bit defensively.

"I'm not talking about that. You need to change your appearance, Gav. Don't mind me, even I can see that you're ruggedly handsome, but you were on TV two months ago. While I doubt a bunch of perverts will keep up with the latest news, that's still a risk."

He and Hank had been interviewed when they received their badges, and while reporters had mostly focused on the deviant-hunter turned deviant-detective, Gavin had appeared briefly on camera.

"Shit, you're right… but I'm not turning into a fuckboi; no way in fucking hell," He clarified abruptly, stupidly stubborn.

"LOTUS caters mainly male clientele." She stared at Gavin from head to toe, and the android felt instantly uncomfortable. "Don't worry, toaster… I'll make you a star."

"I'm already regretting this."

\------

Date:  
 ** _May 15th,_** _2039_  
Time:  
 _AM_ ** _8:22:_** _59_

It was a great picture, really. And Gavin made sure to enjoy it while it lasted, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching Nines asleep on the couch.   
Richard had fallen asleep with the laptop on his lap, half-covered with a blanket, and with his auburn locks tousled around his face, sticking out in three different directions. His breathing was quiet, and for once, he didn't seem to be struggling with nightmares or flashbacks. He seemed fine, relaxed– healed.  
And Gavin likes that; he likes the picture of the neurotic detective calmly sleeping before him. The whimsical nature of human emotions comes back to his mind, and he vehemently pushes it away. He wanted to focus on the here and now.

"Hey, Nines…" He calls him again, but the detective doesn't wake up. He had been doing that for a couple of minutes now. Even the cat had woken up and meowed at him, demanding her breakfast.

"Richard. C'mon, babe…" 

He reached for the kitchen counter and threw a crumpled-up napkin at him, hitting his target square in the face. Richard jumped up and looked around in drowsy panic.

"Hey, calm down… is just me."

"Gavin? Shit," he exclaimed, tangled in the blanket in an ungraceful dance. "Asshole, why was that for?"

"Last time I tried to wake you up gently, you tried punching me in the nose. Not doing that again." He teased, widely grinning as he walked over to the detective, grabbing him by the jaw and pulling him down to kiss his lips. Nines was so groggy he just complied.

"What time is it?" 

"Half-past eight, when did you fall asleep?" he asked, returning to the kitchen to brew some coffee. "You've been smoking."

"I already paid the fine," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched, combing his hair back with his hands. "Guess you were right; I wasn't very helpful with the footage. Did you and Hank find anything?"

"We found a ton of things, nothing very useful. I sent you and Anderson the list of people we identified inside the club. See if anyone rings a bell."

Richard looked for his phone, finding it buried between the couch cushions. "Oh, shit… I completely forgot about this," Richard exclaimed, typing something into his phone hastily.

"What? You also have to go meet a contact in a dingy diner?"

"No. Remember the footage you help me with? I was supposed to send a report to the rest of the team to help them interrogate the suspect on Monday."

"Just forward the same thing you sent to your boss; that should be enough." Gavin hopped onto the counter, watching the human pour himself a cup of coffee as he typed on his phone. He managed to wrap his leg around the detective, pulling him into his arms. He kissed and bit his neck, hoping to get a quick blowjob from him.

"Yeah, you're right. Let me get this-" The detective had frozen, staring at his phone with furrowed brows, his mouth a thin line.

"Nines?... hey, you okay?"

"Gavin, is the name Minh Thúy on the list?"

"The guy from the interview?"

"Yes."

"I don't know. Hank was the one who did the compilation. Let me check," he blinked rapidly, his eyes darting from side to side as he gathered the information in his HUD. "There's a Minh Thúy on the list ... Jerry's footage!"

Both ran for the living room, turning on the television and casting the footage to it. Gavin forwarded the tape to the point where Minh's face was registered, froze the frame, and zoom it.  
It was the same man on Nines' interview, hidden behind David Cheung.

"Why in the world was he at LOTUS last night?" voiced Gavin, bewildered.

"I have no idea. When I typed his name to attach my document to the mail, your list of suspects popped up. That's why I noticed."

"I don't get it; the Vietnamese fisher the FBI scooped off the West Coast a month ago is now hanging around a black market for androids parts 2,000 miles away?"

"It does not make sense to me either. Except– He's not a fisher... HE'S NOT A FISHER!" He repeated, looking around frantically for his laptop. He booted it up and opened the file of Hunter's interrogation, playing it from the beginning. "Here, do you see this? How he's fidgeting?"

The beginning of the tape showed Minh sitting in the interrogation room, staring at the door with trepidation as his fingers move. The index and then the thumb, up and down, without a pattern.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"When I was a kid, Connor and I always went to the same grocery store. The owner was Mr. Takaeki. We always teased him because he didn't use a cash register, or a calculator… the old man used an abacus; and he was faster than light with that thing."

"Nice little story, but you're rambling, babe..."

"No, no! Look– You see how he moves his fingers? He's not fidgeting, he's counting. I don’t think this guy’s an ordinary sailor, he's probably an accountant or a clerk. And right there, He’s probably counting the losses of the ship he was in."

“That’s a stretch, Kent,” Gavin mumbled, looking back at the footage and comparing it with the still frame on the TV. “But if that wasn't just a freighter, and this guy just randomly popped around one of our suspects, he may be involved in something shady.”

“You said so, GV…maybe the cargo was something other than fish.”

“Maybe… biocomponents? Like the ones Anderson found at LOTUS."

"That's my theory."

"Holy shit. Better call your boss, Nines. This is big."

\-----------------

Nines hated video calls; it brought back bad memories of online classes in high school, and he would've preferred to talk this over the phone or just send a mail, but this kind of thing called for different measures. He knew it was impossible to retain his boss' attention if not by keeping eye contact with him.

"Hunter?"

"Yeah, I'm here… sorry, I had my laptop's camera taped over, and now it's all sticky." Hunter reappeared on the screen (a little too close) and rubbed his thumb over the lens with a bit of saliva. "There, can you see me?"

"Yes, thank you."

The FBI agent nodded and yawned, moving away from the camera and sitting at his desk. Richard took a good look at his surroundings.

"Are you at the bureau?"

"Yeah, I got called to supervise an interrogation, and it dragged along for hours. We just finished… that suspect wouldn't shut up!" He yawned again, taking a sip from the coffee he had brought with him from the vending machine. "Okay, why is this so important that I couldn't wait for you to arrive tomorrow?"

"It's about the interrogation tape you sent me."

"Ah, damn it. Sorry I didn't answer your email; I read it… I just forgot to reply."

"Forget about that, H. Listen to me." Hunter's sleepy state made this even harder; he was the kind of guy who selectively listened to what he deemed important and tuned out what did not interest him. "You know my brother is a lieutenant here."

"Yeah, with his android partner, the deviant hunter." Hunter rubbed his eyes, stirred the mug, and took another long drink of coffee.

"They are working on a missing android case, which led them to find a network of biocomponent dealers working at different businesses in Detroit's metro area. While scouting one of those places, they found Minh Thúy in the footage."

"Aha ..." The agent had turned to his phone, distracted. "And who is that?"

Richard huffed in frustration and adjusted his laptop to share screen, showing Hunter the screenshot of both footages- Him questioning Minh and Minh trying to go unnoticed inside the strip club.

"No way, that's the merman!" he exclaimed, moving closer to the screen as if that would clarify the image.

"Exactly! I thought he was in custody."

"We released him on Friday. As far as we knew, he was just a poor sailor who survived a pirate attack."

"He's not a sailor, H," Richard exclaimed, excitement taking over him like every time he cracked a case. He rewound the footage to show him the fidgeting. "That movement he makes is for an abacus."

Hunter frowned, scratching his unkempt beard, and threw his hands in the air in disconcert.

"Look, Detroit. I may be half Filipino, but I grew up in California… care to explain why an abacus is important?"

"He's a bookkeeper, Hunter. I think the shipwreck he came from was no ordinary ship; and that its cargo wasn't just fish. I bet if we check the logbook at the port, the ship will be under a company named TCS-"

Gavin glared at Richard from behind the laptop with Bucket on his lap. How his Sunday nap had turned into videocall with the FBI was anyone's guess, and it didn't help that he hated feds on general principle… now he hated Special Agent Hunter Cruz for very personal reasons. Richard spoke enthusiastically, describing the case in detail and how he had concluded the connection between both cases. Every question Hunter asked, Richard replied with renewed enthusiasm.

_Jealousy_.

Gavin Reed knew what it was. He had been envious several times in his life. He had felt envy of other units when they had been commissioned while he waited in the Cyberlife warehouses; he felt envy of other androids who could deviate. But jealousy, the fear of losing someone in the hands of others, that was new; and it implied that Richard was his. And that was a worrying concept in itself.

"Okay, okay; I got it, but two things," Hunter said, massaging his temples. "First, you can't go around playing detective in your old precinct; you're FBI now. And second, I'm kinda glad you did… but if the director asks, I'll deny it."

"Fair enough. The first contact with the club will be on Monday; my partner is going undercover…"

"Okay, we'll discuss this tomorrow at noon; take the evening flight. The connection is too raw to go all FBI on this, but having you there as our inside-man will make it easier with the locals if we have to take over the case later."

"H, we're talking about my brother and friends… that doesn't sit well with me." He locked eyes with Gavin over the edge of the laptop, the android still sitting on the floor. "I'm here to help them, no to spy."

A long pause followed his statement, and then Hunter sighed.

"Sorry, Kent; that came out wrong. Look, I'll have a gander at our files and get back to you. And please inform your brother that I want nothing but to help out, okay? No hard feelings."

"Okay," He relaxed again and nodded. "see you tomorrow. Goodbye, H."

"See ya'."

Richard ended the call and closed the laptop, he and Gavin engaging in a staring match across the coffee table.

"You don't like him."

"He sounds like a pretentious asshole," the android sneered, approaching the couch and propping his chin on the other's knee. "Hey, you called me your partner."

"Did I?" Richard kidded, running his hand through Gavin's hair a tad roughly, digging his fingers at the base of his skull. "Must have been a slip of the tongue, wasn't it?"

"It must've been. You don't work for the DPD; therefore, you can't be my partner." Gavin played along, enjoying the rough caress. He turned around and leaned between Richard's legs, resting both arms on his thighs and looking up at him. "Any other suggestions?"

"Associate?" Hinted the human, reaching for the android's neck with his hand, caressing his throat and collarbones, then leaning down to bite his cheekbone.

"You do this to your associates?" Gavin snickered, turning his head to catch his lips, but Nines grabbed him by the jaw, keeping his face away as he was now busy mouthing his neck.

"Hmm; fuck friend, then?" 

"Too tacky."

"Lover?"

"Too clingy."

"I guess we’ll have to stick to partners for a little longer." 

He opened his eyes, only to find Richard's blue ones staring directly at him. Controlling, yes, but nervous? He couldn't tell just by his heart.

"That sounds fine to me."

"Then partners it is." Richard smiled a bit timidly and reached down to kiss him.

Their relation status, which had been _LOVERS_ since the first time they had had sex, reverted to _PARTNERS_ , but with a new connotation that made the android stupidly happy. It wasn’t exactly North’s talking like grown-ups idea, but it was close enough in his books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey...  
> Rough week.


	5. Collective consciousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines and Gavin go out to do some good old detective work and stumble upon promising yet worrisome leads. They also get some alone time.
> 
> This chapter contains: discrimination against androids, NSFW

Date:  
 _ **May 15th** , 2039 _  
Time:  
 _AM **10:37** :17_

He hadn't slept at all, but he made damn sure Nines thought so. It was easy enough, to be honest, pretending to sleep and such around him. He just had to wait for the human's breathing to become even, for his body to relax, and that was it.  
He didn't like it, though; It felt like lying.

"Nines?" he asked, but the man next to him, on his side with his back press against him, did not move or replied, just continued to sleep. Gavin let out a long breath and untangled his arms from him, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

He accessed his mind palace.

Hank had told her that his Mind palace (when he could still use it) was a carefully designed and beautiful Zen garden, with its own lake and an arrangement of different trees and flowers that changed in tandem with his emotional state.  
Gavin wasn't sure who designed his (probably Graff), but it was a lame job, to say the least.

It was a barren seaside, strewn with rocks and restricted by a cliff that entirely bordered his tiny shore. He had circled what he thought was an island or atoll 1,532 times and had never found a way up that cliff. Swimming away from him was not possible either; as soon as he got within a mile of the beach, he would instantly be transported back to shore.  
The perks of a simulation.  
The only points of interest on that monotone beach were a little dock and a cave hidden among the rocks. He didn't like going in there. That was where the graves were.

Before returning from the dead like android-Jesus, Gavin’s mind palace acted like a place to communicate with Cyberlife and explore his subconscious, a default setting that all androids had in one form or another. He had always been alone in there; that until the redemption software revived him. Things had changed after that.

"Hello, Gavin."

His mind palace had now become his own personal hell.

"Dowland… still hanging around?" Gavin greeted with a sneer.

"It is my job to keep your mind stable," replied the man, sitting at the dock with an affable smile.

Of all the people, Victor Dowland was the worst person imaginable who could have been assigned to act as his "handler." He would've preferred to have Graff or even Chloe Kamski than the mad scientist he hated and whom he had seen die such a gruesome death.

At least he didn't look like the last time, mangled and ripped apart by Coffey's hands. He imagined this was his "best-version"- like some kind of ghost who had decided how he wanted to spend the rest of eternity.  
Hence, he looked human: with no prosthetics o enhancements, his white-blonde hair falling over his face where two piercing green eyes regarded Gavin with almost fatherly care. He looked healthy and strong.  
No matter how human he looked, it still freaked the fuck out of Gavin.

"Then you're doing a pretty shitty job… Have you figure out what's wrong with me? I’m still glitching all over," he accused, keeping at least three feet distance from the mad scientist. He stood up from the dock and placed the suspenders back on his shoulders.

"No. But if you could allow me to search deeper-"

"NO. Fuck off, Dowland. It's enough to have to share my mind with you; I'm not going to let some AI run loose in my software. Especially not you."

Victor frowned a little and pursed his lips, irritated.  
"You are aware I am not technically the same person who did those awful things to Richard, are you? I would never hurt him."

Before the AI could even finish his sentence, Gavin was already throwing his arms up in the air, sulking and puffing before plunging seated onto the sand.  
"Could you stop being a fucking creep?! Jesus!"

The wind began to catch speed as the sea became restless. Dowland raised his head to appreciate the changing weather.

"Tell me what you know..." Gavin said in a whisper.

He sat next to him, keeping his distance, and buried his hands into the dark sand. From the sand, he picked up a flat, black stone. He gathered them and placed one over the other in a neat stack.

"The corruption on your memories is becoming worse, Gavin… and it will not go away by simply ignoring it. What is happening here is more complex than you may think; the very code of the redemption program is breaking apart little by little, and I am afraid it could reach a point where it will compromise and destroy your CPU.” The pile, now reaching five rocks in high, plundered down. “I keep trying to repair it, patch it up, but there are memories that do not align with the others… troubling indeed."

The weather changed again, and big droplets of rain stroke Victor in the face. He turned to Gavin, and the android looked as somber as the weather. _It was to be expected_ , the AI thought.

"What do you suggest I do?" the android asked openly, free of any anger and understandably frightened. Dowland took a minute to reply, sighing wearily.

"I suggest you back up the memories you hold most dear and hide them somewhere outside your mind. I did that." He tapped the right side of his head, next to his eye. "And go see your creator. Fix whatever difference you two may have. I have learned that you are a very proud and often stubborn man, but it is your life that is at risk."

The weather didn’t settle with his words; instead, the wind picked up some more, and what had been a gentle, dark sea had become a restless storm. However, something seemed to catch Dowland's attention, who smiled softly and turned to him.  
"Better go back, Gavin. Richard is having a nightmare."

\----------------------

Date:  
 _ **May 15th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
 _PM **12:32:** 17_

"Can you chill? My head is ten times more solid than any helmet," complained Gavin, waiting for the light to turn green. Richard kept a firm grip around his waist, clinging to life.

"At that speed, you will literally turn into a bullet! Have you thought about it, you maniac?" He yelled into his ear, squeezing him tighter as the android sped down Woodward Avenue, this time hitting the gas a little easier than usual.

"There, happy?" 

"A little," the detective complained, but he did soften his hold around him. "Are they expecting us?"

"Nah. I can pretty much come and go as I please; you, on the other hand, are a surprise."

Richard sighed deeply, the motorcycle coming to a stop in front of the tall, imposing building- _New Jericho._

The place where the old cargo ship used to stand had been donated, and in its place stood a 25-story-tall, modern edification. It served both as headquarters for androids representatives and as a sort of embassy, where many of them not only worked but lived, offering help and support to others in need.  
Kara resided there, or at least did when she was at Detroit.

He made sure to stop by at least once a week to see if anyone needed help, spare parts, or whatever he could be of use- from physical labor to administrative work, he did what he could.

The best way Gavin could describe New Jericho was a beehive; even its structure reminded him of one, with its glass walls crisscrossed by diagonal beams and its multitude of floors where tireless androids worked 24/7. A well-organized hive.

On the arch of the entrance, it read _< <I think, therefore I am>>;_ a nice welcome message. However, on the sidewall, someone had spray-painted quite the opposite.

_"Get the android whore!"_   
_"Burn the toasters"_   
_" Machines ain't people"_

Gavin scowled at the message, though they were pretty tame compared to the ones he had read around his own home.

"It's the first time I've come here," stated Richard, walking next to Gavin through the open gate.

"Not many humans come to New Jericho, but they're not unwelcome ... and they all know you're with me." The last part of his statement came in a low hush, avoiding eye contact with his partner. "You sure your boss won't throw a tantrum? He gave you shit about it before."

"Maybe; I don't mind." A knowing, complicit smile appeared on the detective's face, brushing his hand against Gavin's. "And I like working with you again…"

Gavin flustered, turning visibly blue for just a second before he snorted and hurried up his pace, walking into the building with familiarity.

"Hey! Luther!" A figure was waiting for them at the reception, and with open arms, hugged Gavin, almost lifting him off the floor. His partner had informed Nines about Luther's appearance beforehand, but the detective still felt a sudden rush of adrenaline upon seeing the gigantic android. He couldn't help but remember Coffey.

"Detective Kent, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," Luther greeted, shaking hands firmly. "Are Hank and Lieutenant Anderson okay?"

"The pleasure is mine, Luther ... and yes, they stayed at the station to work on the case," Richard replied, although he had the impression Gavin had already informed him via shortwave. "You may already know why we are here."

"Sadly, I do. Come on, follow me." 

They entered a conference room on the fifth floor, with large triangular windows looking into the building. The center of the building was an open cylindrical structure, from top to bottom, that allowed one to see the other floors; the design aimed for luminosity and the feeling of a single open-space.

"We don't have much information or clear suspects yet, and we're trying to avoid creating a massive panic around here," Gavin said, looking out the windows. "Is Kara still in San Francisco?"

"Yes, the Free-Android Movement has been posing threats to the governor, and they refuse to speak to Kara. It is a difficult situation," the gigantic android admitted, his kind face crossed with worries. "I prefer to take care of this myself, not stir the waters until you have found something concrete."

"We just want to interview some of the androids here, see if the acquaintances of the missing androids remember anything related to the LOTUS."

"Hank and Lt. Anderson came here a week ago to talk with Mira's friends. They already gave their statements." Luther was naturally reticent to further interrogation, and Gavin understood. He felt a little out of place too, having to act like a police officer instead of just another Jericho android made him uncomfortable.

"We want to see if anyone remembers anything else. Sometimes family and friends don't realize that something is important until you ask the right questions. And now we know a little more." Richard's tone- calm and collected as always- surprised Gavin by the thoughtful way in which he had phrased that, making Luther relax immediately.

"Yes, of course… I'm sorry. Things have been so messy lately that I may be a little more apprehensive than usual."

"Don't worry, it's understandable. We'll do this as quickly and subtly as possible so as not to cause any more trouble," Richard smiled softly, nodding once.

"We just want to clear this up, Luther …make sure no one is targeting us as prey," added Gavin. The big man nodded, exhaling a long, unnecessary breath, and stood up.

"I'll gather all androids who knew Mira… and post a notice; if anyone knows anything, they'll come talk to you."

"Thanks, man..."

Luther left the room, closing the door behind him, but the atmosphere still felt tense.

"You okay?"

"I- I don't like treating my own as suspects," replied the android, falling down on a chair and shoving his hands inside his jacket pockets. "I know I'm a cop, but I'm also an android, you know? It's-… weird."

"I know," smiled the detective, taking the files out of his briefcase. "But there's a reason in this..."

"Yeah, you're right…"

  
They spent at least three hours interviewing anyone that could provide further details about the missing androids. The process was incredibly slow, as the atmosphere in New Jericho itself was tense and distrusting. Even with Gavin asking the questions, some androids flatly refused to answer, side glancing at Richard with suspicion. When four o'clock arrived, they were no closer to finding how and why those specific androids had disappeared.

"Androids are more difficult to interview than humans," sighed the detective, leaning back on the chair, rolling the pencil through his fingers. On the table lay a bunch of notes and case files scattered around. "Perhaps I should’ve made myself scarce; clearly, they didn’t enjoy my presence. Did they tell you anything else by shortwave?... GV? Hey."

Gavin stood by the window, gazing into the innards of the building with a deep, pensive frown. His eyes shifted focus every few seconds from floor to floor, android to android. He blinked hard and turned around.

"I don't like this, Richard," the seriousness with which he said his name made the human worry. "New Jericho ain't like this; something is going on, and I can't wrap my mind around it. It's… weird."

"Weird? Weird like what?"

"Like-… I dunno; like there's something rotten inside." He walked the few steps that separated them and turned the chair to face the younger man, getting closer to him. "Listen, this building works more or less like a collective consciousness. Hundreds of androids, all connected via shortwave, wi-fi, or other means, and thinking in unison to make it work."

"Like a… super-computer?"

Gavin rolled his eyes. "Sure; like fucking Skynet, boomer…"

"Aren't you connected to them too?"

"Technically, yes. But you know my software is written a little differently, like if I had a weird accent. That makes me a bit tricky to reach and read."

"Like humming in a different frequency?"

"That's one way of putting it. And right now, I'm offline; but I can't stay like that for too long without raising suspicions." Gavin lifted his head, like an animal listening for danger, and crouched down next to him when he was sure no one was eavesdropping. "There is a part of this collective consciousness that isn't working as it should. As if it's breaking from it."

Nines, who had kept his full attention on the android's bizarre and vague explanation, leaned closer to the table and grabbed the pen. He wrote with the cap on, no ink on the paper.

_M O L E_

Gavin nodded. He leaned closer, almost crawling onto Richard's lap, and placed his lips next to his ear.

"I think there's a–”

"Oh! Excuse me!” The office door had been opened, and both men separated, not only because their proximity could be taken as compromising, but because they were, in fact, exchanging sensitive information. “I can come some other time," said the android at the door, barely poking her head in.

"No! No. Please take a seat," chimed Richard, who had inevitably blushed a bit, gesturing for the android that had just entered to sit across from them. Gavin returned to his seat, unbothered.

"I- I read the bulletin Luther put up, and I wanted to talk to you." The MS450 was a frail, petite female android, with doe eyes and long jet-black hair. Gavin didn't know her, but her name was Chiyo.

"Chiyo, I'm Detective Gavin Reed, and this is my partner, Richard Kent… thank you for coming."

The woman, keeping her head down, nodded once and walked toward the chair with quick, nervous steps. She only raised her eyes to look at Gavin once before looking down again, hiding behind a curtain of black hair. Richard didn't exactly know what he had said to him, but it was clear that the two androids had connected in some way as the GV200 got up and walked to the window, pressing his hands against it. Immediately, the large triangular windows turned white, hiding the room from any prying eyes.  
Only then, Chiyo seemed to relax.

"I set up a firewall that'll block any signal coming from outside this room; your location is hidden too. No one knows you're here," said Gavin, as if picking up a conversation that was originally non-verbal.

"Th-thank you. You won't tell, will you?"

"You have my word." 

The woman turned sideways to the human, and Richard nodded, pausing the recorder.

"Did you know any of the missing androids?" Richard asked first, as Gavin sat down next to him.

"No…"

"Do you know anything about them or their disappearances?" He continued, but the girl shook her head again. Surprised, the two detectives exchanged puzzled looks.

"So, what did you want to tell us?" Gavin questioned, frowning a little.

"Is about Jericho. You noticed too, didn't you? Something wicked lurking in the shadows. That’s why you were offline," Chiyo began, her face full of nervousness, "I work down in finance. I don't like talking, so I keep to myself and offline most of the time. People seem not to notice my presence and talk freely around me." Her long, slender fingers twisted the fabric of her pleated skirt. "I heard other androids talking about-… about the FAM around the lower levels. That AP700, Mira, she hanged around there.”

Gavin leaned forward, a little hastily, and made Chiyo jump.

"Are you sure about this? Did you hear them specifically talk about the FAM?!"

"N-No. I-… I just thought," Chiyo trailed off, stuttering and sinking into the chair as if she was trying to disappear inside herself.

"Chiyo, can you tell us exactly what you heard?" asked Richard more softly.

"I- I can show you," she nodded, reaching her hand out for Richard's tablet. Her eyes rolled as the footage played on the screen.  
What they could see was what Chiyo had been looking at, and she almost always kept her head down, working hard on her terminal. However, the audio was the relevant part.

_"There's no harm in giving this a thought. Are we not allowed to doubt what we know?"_

_"It's one thing to be curious, but what you're talking about is dangerous."_ The voice, quick and feminine, lowered a little more. _"Have you met... them?"_

Chiyo's gaze lifted from the table and turned slightly to her right where the voices were coming from. It was the back of a large warehouse where three androids were unloading boxes. A man and a woman carried boxes to a two-wheeler, talking.  
Not much could be made of them from the footage, but the man was tall, athletic, and tanned skin. The female, on the other hand, was short, with light-brown hair and high cheekbones.

_"No, not directly… but I heard it from Mira, you know her?”_ The man replied, piling the crates onto the two-wheeler. _“She's from communications. She said she was going to meet this android named Shylock, I think. And-…"_ The android stopped what he was doing and fell silent as his eyes wandered in Chiyo’s direction.   
The footage’s focus changed abruptly back to staring at the table, and it stopped.

"They stopped talking after that and went away. I don't know who those androids were, and I've never seen them in New Jericho again. Do you think this is important? They looked suspicious! Maybe they're with the FAM!"

Gavin kept silent, leaning back in the chair and scratching his chin. Richard was also quiet.

"Mira is one of the missing androids." The human detective was the first to speak, turning to his partner. "Could she have gone there under the assumption of some kind of meeting?"

"I dunno. Those two androids... I know the female, she used to hang out at the Uncanny Valley a lot, but I haven't seen her in a while." Gavin crossed his arms over his chest and rocked in his chair.

"A-Are you going to do something? Inform Kara and Luther about this?" Chiyo exclaimed, crumpling her skirt between her fingers once more.

"We still don't know what's going on." Richard pondered, pointing to the tablet. "For all we know, they could be talking about anything. There’s no indication that this has anything to do with the Free Android movement. And therefore, it's not necessarily suspicious. Acting hastily could derive in a witch hunt inside Jericho."

Chiyo looked at him in surprise and disappointment, turning to Gavin, expecting him to side with her; after all, he was an android. But he kept quiet, frowning as his LED swirled from yellow to red.

"He’s right, Chiyo. I promise we'll look into this. But for now, I'll ask you to say nothing.” He let out a long-dragged sigh and leaned over the table, placing his forearms on it. “And please, be careful. Don't go snooping around this matter; leave it to us. 'Cause you're right; there's something wrong with Jericho…"

The MS450 looked down dejectedly and nodded softly, rising from her chair on shaky legs.

"Please do so. Jericho is my home, but I'm terrified; I feel like I can't trust anyone." She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. "I hope I didn't make a mistake trusting you, Gavin Reed."

And Chiyo left in a hurry, looking over her shoulder and around her with increasing paranoia.

“Shit,” mumbled Gavin, hiding his face in his hands.   
All the windows turned clear again, allowing the two detectives to look inside the building; But at the same time, the Jericho could look back at them; thousands of eyes interconnected, all staring at the intruders. For the first time, Richard realized how unsettling the idea could be.

"What do you th-"

"Not here. Let's go." Gavin interrupted, grabbing the case files and other objects from the table and exiting the room without waiting for the human. Richard had to jog to catch up to him.

  
They moved away from the industrial side and into the more residential area of Ferndale. The android sped through the crowded streets. Richard ran behind him, certainly worried about the sudden urgency with which the android was moving; he had even left his bike behind. Gavin finally stopped at a cafe, sitting at an outdoor table.

"Reed, care to tell me what this is all about?" Said the detective, a little out of breath. He peeled off his jacket as he sat across from him. The android leaned back on the chair, his LED hidden. "Why are you posing as a human?"

"Order something to eat," he suggested, tossing the menu at the man. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a pack of thirium gum, unwrapping a piece. "It's late."

"Gavin," Richard called in a demanding tone. He knew the android well enough to know his behavior was alarming. "What’s going on? What are you thinking?"

"Should I inform Luther or Kara?" He blurted out, propping on both forearms over the table. His intense gaze worried Richard; Gavin was an intense character, but not a nervous one. "I mean, what if this is something that threatens Jericho's stability? Or something worse? I dunno, Nines… I-"

"GV, calm down." Richard had reached forward, clasping the android's hand in a casual yet intimate gesture, his thumb brushing over his knuckles. The skin peeled away instantly, hidden by the human's hand. "Let's be objective about this… what Chiyo showed us is interesting but vague."

"I- I know," he pulled his hand away and shoved them into his pockets, turning his gaze elsewhere. "It could be anything… or nothing."

"What does your gut tell you?"

"I dunno. Another sect? An illegal business?" 

"The FAM?" the human suggested, locking eyes with his partner.

"That's such a stupid acronym … but yeah, it came to mind," he grumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "Jericho would be the first place to go if you wanna recruit other androids, but I've personally never heard of the Free Android Movement operating here in Detroit. Guess it's too close to Jericho and Kara."  
He leaned back in the chair, waiting for the waiter, an android, to take Richard's order and then his. The friendly AX400 didn't doubt for a second the shorter male was a human. "What d'you know about them?"

Richard waited for the waiter to be gone before answering. "Not much apart from what they've said on the news and what Travis has told me."

"Right, Rory's keeper…"

" _And_ SWAT captain," added the detective raising an eyebrow; Travis was his friend. "He's been task with tracking down any suspicious activity in Michigan, but as far as I know, there are no active cells here anymore."

"I doubt that; he's probably not looking hard enough," Gavi grumbled.

Richard frowned at the remark but said nothing as the waiter had just returned, placing a plate before him and a simple bagel for the other. He knew Gavin wouldn't eat it; it was just for show.  
"What do you think about them?" Kent asked instead.

"Frankly? I side with a lot of what they say. C'mon, skip the hard look, Meat sack. I'm just being honest," he countered at the human's grimace. "You know very well I was furious when those two soldiers were just dishonorably discharged but not prosecuted…"

Richard stopped eating the mushroom quiche and put down his fork.

The first few months after the revolution, the government had committed to prosecute those involved in the recall centers or any lynchings. But, as time passed and public attention faded, those promises never came to fruition. And at the end of the day, the convictions, if any, were mild, and trials very limited.

No one was brought to justice for Rory's injuries, Gagliano's men were never found, and for the hundreds of androids who died that day, only a tiny memorial had been built.

"But I don't side with what they do. I'm all for punishing humans who hurt androids, but killing political figures to press the issue is not the way to do it. Extremism, whichever side it comes from, causes pain." He stopped for a moment, snorting. "I don't hate humans, that goes without saying, but it frustrates me the passivity with which authorities have taken this… and I can understand why so many join them."

"I agree with you," Richard nodded, recalling an earlier conversation with Rupert. "Even being human."

They shared a tiny smile, and Gavin visibly relaxed in the chair, his nervousness fading a little. He pressed his leg against Nines’.

"I got the feeling someone was watching us inside Jericho. Maybe Chiyo's anxiety just got the better of me, but it's not like you can have a private conversation in there. Even now, I've the sensation we're being followed." Reed leaned forward a little, scanning the place.

"That’s why you're posing as a human?" Gavin nodded. "Let’s give this a thought. Do you know any of them?" Richard placed his tablet back on the table; Chiyo's recording was saved in its memory.

"Just her." He tapped the screen, and it zoomed into her face. "I've never talked to her directly, but her name is Katya. Tompkins knows her."

"What about the other guy? Can you-… scan him or something?"

"Ain't that easy, Meat sack. I know he's an AC700, but there are a thousand of androids with the same face. We can change our external features, but it's still like trying to recognize someone in an infinite number of twins," Gavin explained, pushing the plates aside to make room for the tablet. "I can scan most androids and get a general idea of their model, but to know their denomination – and now their actual names- there are only two ways."

"You have my attention."

Gavin tapped the side of his right eye and smirked. "There's a serial number in our eyes. You can learn everything about an android if you take a good look at their eyes."

"How poetic! The window to the soul," joked the detective.

"Jesus, that's so fucking corny," Gavin snorted, making them both laugh. "Whatever. He never looked directly at Chiyo, so it's impossible to tell who he is."

"What's the other method? You mention two."

"Through thirium analysis," the android stuck out his tongue and then licked his lips slowly, never breaking eye contact with his partner, even pressing his knee against the detective’s inner thigh. Richard rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair away from him. His cock not totally unfazed by the cunning gesture.

"Not the place, Gavin."

"You said the same about the evidence room, and yet…" He left the statement unfinished, and Richard huffed. He remembered that.

"They mentioned someone else. Before Chiyo turned away." Richard had taken the tablet back, rewinding the footage to replay the conversation.

"Shylock, that's the guy they mentioned."

"Usurer…"

"What?"

"Shylock is the main antagonist in Shakespeare's _The Merchant of Venice_. He's a moneylender who's portrayed as stingy and cruel, leaning money to one of the protagonists but demanding as security a pound of flesh. It is supposed to be a comedy, though many see it as a reflection of Christianity conquering over Judaism."

"Sounds pretty antisemitic."

"Oh, it is." Richard sighed and grabbed his plate, resuming his meal. "But Shylock's character has changed over the years, becoming less of a caricature and more into a sympathetic character with which you can empathize with; Now it could be interpreted as the struggles one suffers as a minority."

“Says the white guy.” 

“You're white too!”

“I’m android,” he joked, making his partner snort and laugh loudly. "Whatever. There's no Shylock on the Jericho directory… so that's a dead end."

"Then? What do you suggest we do?"

The android smiled broadly and wicked, and the human immediately knew it meant trouble.

"Well, you're flying tomorrow, right? I suggest we hit the Uncanny Valley for an early drink."

\---------------------

Date:  
 _ **May 15th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
 _PM **05:43:** 56_

Tompkins was a WD500, manufactured to deliver packages and documents. His model, along with the AX line, had been one of the most commercialized models in recent years; thousands of units manufacture every day to meet the needs of the market. As such, Tompkins fell into the category of _unwanted_ and, in his own words, he was damned proud to be one.

He was the owner of the _Uncanny Valley_ , the first and only android-owned bar in all Detroit, which happened to be only a few blocks from Gavin's apartment. There they served both thirium-based drinks and regular drinks, designed to be a place where androids and humans could interact on neutral ground.

Many would say that he was the prime example that even unwanted androids could make something of themselves with hard, honest work (like a modern android version of the American dream). But if you asked him, he would've laughed in your face and told you you were a fool for believing what the governor was saying on the media.   
He had lucked out; that was all.

He was Gavin and Richard's close friend.

"Nines! Long time no see!" Tompkins exclaimed, smiling broadly when the door opened to let two men in. He was behind the bar, restocking the shelves, but turned his full attention to them once they crossed the threshold. He was a black man, not much taller than Gavin, but with a muscular build.

"Hi, Tompkins! It's been a while," greeted back the human, smiling widely. “Sorry, you don’t open till six, right?”

"Chill, man. I’m glad to see you two. Take a seat!” he gestured to the bar, grabbing two glasses from the back. "What can I get you?"

"It's okay. We're still on duty–”

"The same as usual, Tomps," interrupted the GV200, sitting down on the bar stool with a grin. "What? It's Sunday! Enough unpaid extra hours, babe."

Richard flushed a little but sat down next to him. Tompkins was aware they were 'together'- whatever that meant- but Gavin's pet name was more of a tease than an actual public display of affection. Still, it made him giddy.

"You returned to the DPD already, Nines?" asked the owner, leaving a cold beer and a blue bottle on the counter.

"Not quite, just-… helping out a little." The bitter taste of the ale was not unwelcome. After all, he had a long day ahead of him tomorrow, and relaxing on his last night in Detroit, before two weeks of non-stop, boring, academic work, seemed fair.

"How's DC? Made any friends?"

"Dickchard doesn't make friends; he has acquaintances who end up adopting him due to Stockholm," said the android taking a swing from his bottle, never missing an opportunity to pick on him.

Nines gave him an annoyed look and grunted. To which Tompkins let out a little laugh hidden behind his hand. "You guys never stop bickering, do ya?"

"He's just incapable to express affection in normal, civilized ways," said Richard in his usual tone of self-righteousness, but cried out when Gavin kicked his shin.

"I apologize, detective. My leg malfunctioned," Gavin excused himself in a serious, monotonous tone to then laughed out loud accompanied by the bartender.

"It's good to see you two… you and North are still my best clients," Tompkins said, pulling his cornrows into a ponytail, putting on his apron, and giving the counter one last swipe.

The counter was made of oak, and it was polished to the point it shined. The entire bar had been thoughtfully designed with a somewhat minimalist look (like many android-designed spaces) but had warm tones and materials that embodied the idea of living and unliving creatures living together. At least that was what Tompkins had told North and Nines, and they had agreed. It wasn't like the two detectives knew much about architecture or design.

"There's no place like this in Washington, Tomps. What you have here is unique and important, and people are beginning to notice," the detective encouraged.

"Yeah! Every week this place gets more and more people! Soon, you'll have to get yourself a bouncer and a VIP list."

Tompkins laughed, muttering a timid _no way_ to then nod. It hadn't been easy, but the business was starting to take off. Finally, no red numbers this month. 

They chatted a bit more about the bar and the regulars. It was then that Reed decided it was a good time to do some digging.

"Hey, Tompkins… Have you seen this VH500 that goes by Katya? She used to come around here a lot," Gavin asked casually, taking another drink from his bottle.

"Katya? Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her in at least two weeks; I thought she'd moved away. She had made some new friends, she told me," Tompkins confided, leaning against the back wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "Why? Work-related?" Tompkins was too clever to be fooled.

"Yeah, nothing serious for now, but I would like to speak to her. Left her a message through her denomination, but she hasn't replied."

"Gavin, you know I don't like siding with anyone… this is no man's land," Tompkins reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

"Look, man, I get it. I'm not asking you to play snitch, but she could be in danger," he clarified. "This has to do with the missing android cases."

The bar owner's frown deepened, and he pushed away from the wall to approach both officers. "Keep talking."

"Did Katya ever mention a place called LOTUS? Or a repair shop in Westside Industrial?" asked the human detective.

"No," he bent down and retrieved a blue bottle for himself, opening the cap by hand. "No to me, at least. People talk to bartenders, you know? Humans and androids. You get to know some of their backstories. Katya had a boyfriend, an AC700 named Jairo… shady guy, rubbed me the wrong way."

"Could be our AC700," Gavin muttered to Nines excitedly. "Tomps ... this may sound strange but, have you heard anyone talking openly about the FAM?"

The change in the android's face was immediate, and it didn't take any LED to realize how uncomfortable he was with the question.

"No killer is allowed here; neither human nor android… not in my bar," he stated, pointing at both of them with his bottle.

“It’s just a lead,” Richard tried to defuse. “Just a thing we overheard... but we still have to ask.”

The barman huffed through his nose and pondered for a moment, drinking the rest of his thirium before speaking. "I don't know what those two were doing; I didn't pay much attention to them. But the FAM is burning like wild-fire around the slums, so it is a possibility."

"You know Jairo's denomination?" asked Richard, leaning forward as the first customers arrived.

"Sorry, I didn't get a good look at him… but I'll keep an ear out. People talk," he repeated and winked at the human, leaving them to tend the newcomers.

"That was useless," Gavin grumbled, drinking down the bottle with long gulps until he emptied the thirium.

"Not entirely. With a name, it won't be that difficult to find this Jairo guy or Katya," the detective countered, also drinking the rest of his beer. "Are you going to tell Hank?"

"Maybe, I dunno… you said it yourself, it could be nothing."  
  
“Maybe you should tell him. He’s as involved in Jericho as you are,” The detective pushed softly

“I’ll-… keep the information to myself for a while. Hank is capable of going insane and raiding Jericho from top to bottom. I want to avoid that.” The android stood up and blinked a few times, his LED swirling twice before walking to the exit.

"Thanks, guys! Come again soon!" Tompkins exclaimed without turning around, waving them good-bye.

"You paid for our drinks? That's a new one," joked the human. Gavin just chuckled, pushing the door open. Night had already fallen, and it was cold outside.

"It's a farewell gift…it will be a while until we can come here again," Gavin turned slightly to him and smiled. If Richard didn't know better, he would've said there was a hint of tenderness in that gesture. It made him remember the conversation they had earlier that morning.

One beer was nothing to him, to be honest, but he still blamed it for this sudden rush of courage he was having. "Can I stay at your place?" he asked, cool as a cucumber.

Gavin stopped and turned, surprised.

"You said, and I quote _< < I will never again come to this dump you call house>>_," he said, mimicking Richard's voice to add some immersion and making the detective snort. "But if you insist, sure… it's just a block away."

"I know,” Nines muttered, brushing his hand momentarily against the android's lower back.

  
Gavin had sobered up a bit by the time they had reached his apartment door; after all, he was a high-performance android that could purify his thirium faster than other models. However, he didn't need to be that intoxicated to ditch any sense of public morale and dry-hump his partner on the way up the stairs.

"Not the place, Gavin," huffed the detective. 

"Fuck you, Kent," he returned, pulling his mouth away from the detective's neck just to reply before continuing with what he was doing, crashing against each wall as they tried to climb to the fourth floor. Reed was strong, and even if Richard was considerably heavier than him, he had no problem pinning him against the wall, lifting him off the floor onto his hips.

"Maybe next time, if you behave," the human purred in his ear, sliding his hand down the android's jeans to grope his ass.

"Wait, you mean it?" Gavin's head snapped up in surprise, and Richard blushed a little redder, nodding.

"You want to?" 

" _Phuck_ ; of course I do! Don't get me wrong; I love bottoming… but dicking you is a personal dream of mine," the shorter male grinned.

"Don't get cocky; I said I'll think about it," Nines underlined, shying away from Gavin's mocking smile.

They reached the end of the hall – _Apt. 4C_ \- And Richard grabbed the shorter male by the waist to make out a little longer, pulling him closer and kissing slowly with a lingering smile on his lips, Gavin's arms coiling around his neck.

"Hey, pal! Ya' know that's a toaster, right?" Someone shouted behind them, and Gavin immediately tensed up, squeezing Richard. He didn't had time to turn before the android was already yelling.

"Hey, Jeff! How about you go back to watching kiddie porn and leave me the fuck alone!?" 

Richard took a good look at Jeff and thought that Gavin's suspicion certainly matched the cartoonish cliché of the fat, sweaty, middle-aged perv that was standing by the door to apt 4A.

"Disgusting faggot toasterfucker," Jeff muttered under his breath.

"What did you just fucking say!?" Richard raised his arm to prevent Gavin from presumably beating the man to death and pushed his jacket away from his hip, his FBI badge flashing in the dim hallway lights.

"Sir, are you aware that what you're saying can be interpreted as hate speech? Since the New Android Declaration, laws are very-"

He didn't have to finish his statement for Jeff to run back to his apartment like a frightened groundhog back into his hole. Richard made a mental note to check suspicious, creepy Jeff for any cybercrimes, or maybe plain SWATing his apartment. A little police intimidation would do him good.

"C'mon; more will come out from where he came from," Gavin grunted, opening the door. Richard noted it had been recently painted (again), but the spiteful message could still be read.

_"Toaster pig"_

He pushed forward and closed the door behind them.

  
The apartment was more like a closet than anything else. With 250 square feet, being inside felt bordering claustrophobic. But Gavin didn't need much to be comfortable, and these new _"android-oriented-housing"_ meant they could pay less at the expense of space and some amenities… like heating. Richard always froze whenever he visited.

A kitchenette (barely used), a bathroom, a bookshelf, and a mattress were all the furniture and equipment the android had. The apartment was always messy, with clothes laying around, and full of trinkets, but it was characteristically Gavin's.

"Did you remember to pay the electric bill this month?" asked Richard, taking off his coat. Enough light came in from the windows to make out the general outline of things, but he didn't want to bump his foot on something again.

The lights turned on.

"Just did," the android replied, throwing his jacket messily on the only chair in the room.

"Hey, that ... guy-"

"Forget it; he's not a problem."

“It is if he’s threatening you,” Nines countered a tad apprehensively, turning his gaze back to the door.

“Look, I’m a police android; I have more moves than all MMA fighters combined, and I carry a gun with me now. Fat-ass Jeff can’t do shit to me,” the android dismissed, walking the distance that separated them. "But… I appreciate your concern,” he whispered, his cheeks turning a bit blue. “Now, get your scrawny ass to bed, Meat sack… you are not getting away." He grabbed the human by his shirt and shoved him down to meet his lips.

Kissing had been a discovery for Gavin. Sex was great, awesome! But kissing while they were doing it had been a whole new level for him, and he had to admit he kissed Nines a lot. He kissed Nines every chance he got.

After rising from the dead and after those three days he'd been missing, returning home to Richard hadn't been as awkward as it could've been.  
They had kissed gently and shily in the kitchen, slowly stripping down to reveal how much their bodies had changed – Richard's, now skinny and scarred, and Gavin's, new and sensitive.  
He had been ashamed of how his skin had peeled away wherever the human touched; so intense did it feel that, even having reduced his sensibility levels, he hadn't been able to last more than ten minutes. Luckily for him, the detective had found himself in a not so different state. And they had ended up laughing at how absurd the situation was, tangled up in bed.

"Ah, babe… are you trying to get me there or make me cum?" the android muttered in a choppy voice, propping up on his forearms to get a better look at Richard's face between his thighs.

"Haven't made up my mind yet," he replied, tugging lazily on hardened cock, lapping at the head from time to time before shoving it fully into his mouth. Richard's long fingers cupped his balls carefully.

"Ah, fuck," groaned the android, falling back onto the mattress with his eyes closed, fighting the urged to thrust his hips as his partner's tongue traced the underside of his cock. When Richard pulled up his legs to lick him open, he lost control of his voice.

"Your neighbors are going to call the police if you don't keep your voice down," the human smirked, taking a break from what he was doing.

"Fuck them, I'm the poli-," he joked, though the rest was left unfinished when another lick caught him off guard, making him whimper. God! was Richard good at eating ass.

"Keep it down, Gavin."

"Bad luck, detective. We left the gag at your place," Gavin grinned smugly, reaching out to tug on the detective's hair, spreading his legs a little wider.

"I've never needed a ball-gag to shut you up," the detective chided, moving up in between his legs and over him, sliding his index and middle finger inside his mouth to pinch his tongue.

Although androids had pretty much the same erogenous zones as humans (apparently, they had no evidence other than their own experience, to be honest), Richard had discovered some parts that were unique to the GV200, perhaps related to his features.   
Gavin couldn't help himself when the detective touched his tongue, bit the tips of his fingers, or pressed into his neck. And Richard had become quite an expert in unraveling every part of him.

Gavin thought the novelty of sex would wear off quickly; there were only as many combinations that could be done until it became repetitive. But it turns out that even the seemingly same gestures and actions – kissing, stroking, licking, and fucking- felt different each time.   
That thought cross his mind, resting on his right side as he held onto Nines behind him, the detective's breathing labored against the back of his neck as his hips thrust against him.

Changing positions, changing angles, settings, times, and mindsets; even now, that his program rebooted after finishing between Richard's fingers, he felt as good as the first time.

"GV, are you okay?" the human's drawn voice asked by his ear, holding him in his arms, still pulsing inside him.

"Yeah," he was slow to answer; the electric sensation over his body lingered, peeling away the skin where Nines' fingers gripped his hips. The detective turned him around carefully, staring at him with worry in his blue eyes. 

"What? Stop worrying about everything. I've told you a million times you can't hurt me," he dismissed, pushing his face away with his hand but settling down next to him instead of moving away as usual.

"It had been a while since the last time you shut down when coming," commented the human, getting up and walking to the tiny bathroom to clean himself.

"Nobody likes a showoff, Dickchard!" he exclaimed, turning to look at the open door, the light seeping into the room, the sound of the tap running.  
Richard turned off the light and walked back to bed, lifting his boxers off the floor to put them back on.

"Go clean yourself," said the detective, seeing that Gavin was still in the same position he had left him in.

"You used a condom. Get into bed and shut the fuck up; I'm tired," Gavin complained, and to his surprise, the human sat down with his back to him, his frame highlighted by the dim light coming from the window. The android always found himself counting each mole and freckle on the detective's shoulders, despite knowing them by heart.   
_32_ ; he remembered that.

"Hey, give me your phone."

"My phone? Why?" the human asked, pulling up his underwear.

"Do you ever just listen to what people tell you? C'mon," he insisted, turning to him.

It took Nines a while to find his pants in the dark, pulling the phone out of his pockets and handing it to him. He didn't have time to ask about Gavin's intentions as the android's hand closed around his arm to pull him onto the bed. Gavin pressed himself against his back and snapped a photo, startling the human.

"What was that all about?" Gavin did a few more things on his phone and handed it back, shrugging.   
Richard stared at the selfie- Gavin smiling sincerely, even squinting a little, with his chin resting on the other's shoulder. He, on the other hand, looked startled and confused, with hair all over the place.

"You could've told me," complained Nines, combing his hair down.

"Nah," he snickered. "The whole point was catching you off-guard. Real Nines, you know? Not picture-perfect Special agent Kent." Gavin lay back down, his arms behind his head. The detective joined him quietly.

He stared at the wall next to the bed; Some thirty photos were pinned to the wall with tiny studs: Birthday parties, the RITF, Bucket, Kara and Luther, Tina, Rory, and even one of a dark-skinned android holding a kid in his arms with a blonde man next to him. Moments in Gavin Reed's life that he deemed important.  
He himself was in some, around their friends or co-workers, but only in one did the two of them appear alone. North had taken it, and neither of them had noticed until she had sent it. It was a casual picture of the two working on a case: Nines sitting at his desk with the tablet in hand and Gavin leaning over his shoulder pointing to something on it.  
He liked that photo.

"Just don't pin it on the precinct board," warned Richard, looping his arms around the android and pressing his forehead against his neck. He pecked his shoulder warmly.

"Rest easy, Agent Kent; this is for me," Gavin grumbled, clicking his tongue in annoyance but running his fingers through his auburn locks. "…I want to remember you."

A few minutes passed in silence, and Richard's unsure voice spoke with caution.

"Gavin, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Get outta your head, Richard… You're acting paranoid again."

"I know, but… You would tell me, right? If something was wrong…"

He kissed him just to end the conversation, but it was as bad as lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! So, remember the part where I was going to post consistently every two weeks?... yeah, sorry about that. Tbh, I'm stuck in a chapter, and I didn't want to post until I got that sorted out, as I always try to have at least 4 or 5 chapters ready before posting a new one   
> Thank you for every one of your kudos and comments; I'll reply to every one of them. But to the anons that are reading this, I appreciate you too <3.


	6. Customized appearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin gets into character for the undercover job. Nines gets the FBI to help.

Date:  
 _ **May 16th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
 _PM **03:42:** 17_

"Relax. Why are you so tense?"  
  
"I've never done this before. I know I can -it's in my model description- but still." He huffed, uncomfortable. "Whatcha got there?" 

“Oh! You'll see…”

North's gym bag took up most of the space on the locker's bench, and Gavin couldn't understand how she kept pulling clothes out of it; it was as if it bent the laws of elementary physics. That, or she was Mary Poppins.

"Why in the world would you have these types of things?" He asked, lifting what he thought was a belt but turned out to be a harness and choker. He let it drop; all the clothes she had brought were as skimpy as that one.

"I used to have a roommate, Oscar- He made all his money from posting photos of himself in sexy outfits. He made a ton, and I mean, a FUCKING ton of money doing that!" she explained, showing him the tiniest shorts he had ever seen. "When he moved out, his fans kept sending things to my place, so I ended up stockpiling all this shit. He was supposed to pick it up, but he still hasn't returned from Europe."

"Yeah, well… you can pack it up and send it back to him. I'm not wearing any of this." The locker room was empty besides the two of ‘em, and he thanked rA9 for that.

"You know, you can still call it quits, Gav. If you don't feel comfortable with this, I mean."

"Forget it," he said with a sneer. "This is my job, and I take pride in it. Besides, I rather wear a choker with some dignity than to deal with Hank's teasing for the rest of my useful life."

“Nines is going to have a stroke… or a boner. Both would be equally traumatizing.”

“Just-… let’s get this over with.”

"Whatever you say, handsome." She gestured at him and took a seat at the bench. "Let's start with the easy part- you have to shave. No offense, but the 5 o'clock shadow doesn't sit well with most sugar daddies."

Instantly he brought a hand to his chin, touching the stubble he always wore on his face. He had never shaved before, but trusting North's judgment, he finally decided that shaving wouldn't be so terrible; He'd borrowed a razor from Jerry's locker anyway.

Turning to the mirror, he spread the shaving cream over his face and, with careful movements, slid the razor against his cheek. "Shit…"

"You cut yourself?"

Gavin grunted, noticing the small blue trail dripping from his cheek.

"I don't get it, when you peel away your skin, you don't have hair… how come you have to shave?" asked the woman, patiently waiting for him to finish.

"Believe me, is fucking stupid even for me," he tapped the razor against the sink, and the cut hair dissolved into the water like if they had never existed. 

"If it's some boring science thing, I'm already bored."

"I could explain it to you… but it has more to do with Graff's idea of humanizing us than with actual science. He has the most stupid theories…" There was some resentment in that statement, but at the same time, also a little bit of longing. Either way, North knew better now and knew that poking around the subject was a bad idea.  
She had learned the hard way.

Gavin wasn't talking to Graff and neither to Elijah since January at least. She'd asked what was that all about, if he was still mad at his brother for undeviating him, but Gavin had refused to answer.   
She tried pressing the subject several times, obviously concerned that the android had cut all communication with his supposed family. She could understand ditching Graff; apparently, he was more of an asshole than he’d let show; but Elijah? He was nice! And brothers should stay close.

"Families are difficult, but that’s the way it is! Take Nev and me; we don't see eye to eye on most things, but we still love each other!"

She’d been a bit tipsy, and that had been the only reason she was extra pushy that night, using her relationship with her sister as an example. Gavin had been drinking too. It was one of the many times they'd hit the Uncanny valley after work hours.

"It's more complicated than that," he had mumbled inside the glass, already quite drunk himself, knocking down the rest of the thirium. His cheeks had turned blue.

"Come on, Gav. I know Graff is a strange guy, but the little I got to know him, he genuinely cared about you," she pressed, talking a bit loud for the tiny bar.

"Drop it, North," Gavin warned, but the girl was too inspired -or drunk- to notice that his LED was now red.  
  
"And you can't be mad at Elijah for what he did! You would still be dead if he hadn't done it!"

"Stop…"

"Family is family, after all; you have to forgi-!"

"PLEASE, FUCKING STOP!" shouted the android, banging on the table, startling her to the point she jumped back in her seat, knocking down her phone on the process. Tompkins raised his head towards ‘em.

“Is everything alright?” asked the owner, more concerned than angry. 

“Yes, Tompkins. Sorry… we'll keep it down,” Gavin had said without raising his head.

She looked at his friend. Gavin had raised his still clenched hand and bounced it against his forehead, biting into his lower lip, his face turned away from her. When he spoke again, his voice was faint but sober.

"Please, stop asking about it… I don't- I don't want to talk about it."

“Sorry, Gav.” That was the closest she'd ever come to seeing Gavin cry. She hadn't brought up Jason or Elijah since.

  
"There!" He cleaned the leftover foam from his face with a towel and turned around to face his partner. "So?"

"Hey! Not bad, Detective Reed. You look far more presentable than when you got your badge," she smiled. 

The android stared at his face in the mirror, not entirely unhappy with how he looked. North was right; he looked like a presentable man you could introduce to your parents and make a good impression… as long as he kept his trashmouth to himself. "It's not that much of a difference, though."

North hummed, thinking. "What else can you change?"

"Well, even the most basic androids can change their hair color, but other customizations are common in newer models. I, for instance-" He stopped and rubbed his neck. "It's easier if I show it to you. Just-... don't look at me while I do it."

"What? You can't pee if someone's looking?"

"Just fucking close your eyes, North!"

He made sure the woman wasn't looking and turned to look at himself in the mirror. He was going to hate this.

"Good morning, Hank," Nines greeted, entering the precinct and finding the other android at the front desk chatting with Megan, an android officer that had recently been sworn in. She beamed at Nines, and he smiled back.

"Agent Ke- Richard… good morning," he greeted back, correcting the addressing with a bit of trepidation. "I'm glad you were able to stay. I must admit the Lieutenant was far from happy when you called him yesterday morning."

"Yes, I figured that would be the case."

Connor being ‘far from happy’ was an understatement. He'd yelled, protested, and accused his younger brother of high treason for a full ten minutes before giving in and agreeing to work along with the feds; And only because Gavin had managed to convince him it was the best way to access international data.  
That didn't mean his brother was less upset with him.

"Were you able to find anything of use?" Hank asked as they entered the bullpen, stopping a few times for Richard to say hi to other officers, most of ‘em with smiles on their faces. There was some kind of jovial mood inside the precinct.

"Yes, I gathered everything I could find about the TCS corporation on the FBI database- everything that my clearance level allowed, at least. It's not much, but something must be useful. I trust you can sort it out better than I." He handed him a memory card, and Hank nodded.

"Thank you; I'll look into it as soon as possible. Are you on your way to the airport?"

"Yes, I delayed my trip as much as I could, but I need to get going," he looked at his watch and sighed. "Have you seen Reed? Is he still here?"

"You should head to the locker room, Richard. He might be there." The tiny smile that curved his lips might've seemed innocent but had a different tinge when it came to Hank's face. It was a tad unnerving.

Taking Hank's advice, he turned and headed toward the locker room. He spotted Daniel waiting by the door in what he imagined was his best attempt to look aloof. The young officer straightened up as soon as he caught a glance of his former boss and walked away with an awkward smile. Richard tried calling to him, but the man escaped faster than at the sight of blood.   
Now he definitely knew that something was up.

He hurried and saw North exiting the locker room with tears in her eyes. That would've been unsettling if it weren't for the almost hysterical laugh still lingering in her lips.

"North, what is going on? Hank is acting weird- well, weirder than usual … and Daniel is too." He intercepted her, blocking her way to the break room. "You know where Gavin is?"

"He's inside," the woman said with a laugh, pointing to the door behind her.

"Is everything alright?"

"Nines, I want you to know that if you have a heart attack, I really liked you…" she burst out laughing again and pushed her way through him, walking down the hallway into the break room.

"What in the world is going on?" He muttered to himself.

The answer to his question pushed the door open and passed him with the most angry look in the world.  
He'd to take a second look before realizing it was Gavin Reed.

The man in front of Richard was a complete stranger to him, though he vaguely resembled the android he knew. It was as if someone had taken the basic outline of him -his height, weight, and body build- and had played around with his features, similar to creating an avatar in an online game.

His generally messy hair was now shorter and combed to the side, and it was no longer brown but a lighter shade, almost blonde. Every line of expression on his face had been sanded down -the marks around his mouth, the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes, all was gone! - Turning Gavin from a man in his late thirties to someone not older than 23. That, added to his clean-shaven face and lighter skin, made him unrecognizable at plain sight.

"Gavin?" Richard called, and the android turned to him.

It was the eyes- the eyes and the scar that still persisted on the bridge of his nose which assured the detective this was the same person.

"Oh, shit… zip it, Meat sack," he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. North had been kind enough to at least let him keep his regular clothes. "I know."

"Jesus, what boy band did you come out of?" The lieutenant had appeared from the break room, followed by a curious Jerry and a still laughing North. The three officers approached to inspect the android, staring at him in awe.

"Well, it does the job; he looks nothing like Gavin," Jerry commented. "How did you rejuvenate yourself? Hey, are we even sure this is the same android?"

"None of you fucking business… and get away from my face! Jesus!" he snapped again, taking a step back in obvious discomfort as the three lean over him, almost cornering the GV200 to the wall. "Could the three of you stop staring at me like I'm a freakshow? Jerry, I swear to God! I'm gonna punch you, man."

"No, he's still Gavin," Connor snorted. "C'mon, you've a job interview in 10 minutes! You shouldn't be late."

Gavin and Nines’ gaze crossed for a moment as North pushed him to the parking lot. The android thought his partner looked… distant.

\----------------

The restaurant was less crowded than the previous Saturday evening, but he still had to wait to sit. He noticed a few eyes were following him, although that attention lasted only a few seconds before fading; the amount of interest one would pay to a stranger in a restaurant and nothing else.  
With his confidence reassured, he dropped North's gym bag next to him and sat down at the table, the same he'd shared with Richard two days earlier.

 _He must be flying to Virginia already,_ he thought. But he had no time to be pondering on the detective or the strange face he had pulled back at the precinct; he had work to do. Getting this new character for a run, and the first big test was in sight.  
Roxxie approached him to take his order. He didn't expect her to work every day of the week, and he tensed a bit when the middle-aged woman handed him a menu.

_DUBOIS, ROXXANE LACONIA. Born 12/28/2000// Waitress // Criminal record: None._

"What would ya' like, honey? I can get you an early dinner to warm up," the woman suggested kindly.

"Just a cherry soda, I'm waiting for a friend," he replied, pitching his voice a bit higher than his usual baritone tone, copying the accent he had heard from Nines’ boss the day before.

"You're not from here, are you?" Roxxie smiled maternally at him.  
  
"No," he replied with a shy smile, feigning the awkwardness of a young drifter. "I'm from San Diego."

"You're a long way from sunny California, honey… take care; Detroit ain't kind city."

With another smile, Roxxie took his menu and walked back behind the counter. He kept an eye on her, watching for any sign of distrust. Yet the waitress continued with her routine, serving coffee to two construction workers who had just arrived discussing loudly about the recent basketball game.

"Guess it worked," Gavin said through the radio, scouting his surroundings for familiar faces, but aside from some misdemeanors and illegal status, the people inside the diner were just ordinary folks trying to get by. He decided he liked it there.

 _"Nice accent, Malibu boy; matches your hair,"_ taunted North on the other end of the line. She was handing out flyers for a Baptist church right in front of the diner; Daniel did the same on the other corner.

 _"San Diego,"_ he corrected. "I just hope Ripple shows up," Gavin mumbled, trying his best to appear nervous and shy, in line with his character. He fished the phone they'd given him for the job and browsed through it for a while, finally taking out the wallet from his coat.

With each job came a new character... and a new made-up life – family, background, problems, and personalities. Lucky for him, he was an android, and he could remember every convoluted story and characters Jerry made up for him. 

REID, NEIL ALEXANDER. DOB: 10/07/2015. 1189 Cordova St, San Diego, CA 48212.

 _"You're getting lazy, Jerry… no new names this time?"_ He returned the driver's license to his wallet and pulled out some receipts, a coupon for a gym, a polaroid photo of Connor's dog. No cash, no credit card.

 _"You may remember everything, Gavin, but we've already lost track of how many identities I've made up for you!"_ Replied Jerry, waiting in his car nearby. Hank and Connor had stayed at the precinct, and Nines would probably be at Quantico by now. It was just the RITF now.

 _"Eight so far; there's Freddy, the bank clerk too nervous to remember the secret password; Austin, the environmental activist… Oh! And my favorite, the John Doe I played at the morgue,"_ he listed, relieved that each name appeared in his memory smoothly, no glitches.

Jerry snickered. _"That was so fun! I swear that suspect was about to piss himself when you raised from the dead."_

 _"No time to reminisce about past glories, boys,"_ admonished North.

Gavin was about to tease North for taking Nines' role when Roxxie returned with his soda and a slice of cake.

"Here; carrot cake is always good… and don't worry about it."  
  
"Thank you; you're very kind."

"What's your name?" she asked, and from what he could tell, she was genuinely interested in this shy, wayward boy.

"Neil."

"Why leave the west coast, Neil? Detroit is colder than a penguin's butthole."

Gavin snorted, laughing without having to play Neil. He liked Roxxie too; he promised himself to come as Gavin and give her a big, fat tip, even if he couldn't eat anything.

"It's complicated…"

"There are a lot of people in this city who'd take advantage of a pretty boy like you, Neil," said Roxxie, gesturing with her finger at the people in the diner, opening her big brown eyes to reaffirm her point.

"I know; California isn't much better. Like, not everyone can be a Hollywood star or an internet celebrity." That made Roxxie laugh, shaking her head. "I just want to find a job and a place to stay…"

"Who's this friend you're waiting for? Someone from Cali?"

"No, she's… someone I met at the greyhound terminal. She said she could get me a job here. Maybe you know her? A girl with blue hair?"

"Ripple. Oh, of course I know her. She's always around." Roxxie paused for a second and appeared to hesitate before speaking. "She's a good girl, a bit wild, but who isn't in a place like this. Take care, Neil; I hope to see you here another day." She smiled again and winked, pointing at Ripple who'd just entered the diner, soaked to the bones.

Ripple wasn't tall like North, neither was she short; nevertheless, she stood out in the crowd with her blue hair and black clothing. She peeled her leather jacket, splashing water onto the floor.

"Hey, don't trail water in my diner!" shouted a man through the window that led into the kitchen. 

"Fuck off," muttered Ripple, glaring around with her hands in her pockets. Gavin waved at her with a small gesture, and she seemed confused for a moment before approaching him with a shocked expression.

"That's some makeup! Couldn't even recognize you," she said, sitting across from him and taking possession of Gavin's cake. He wasn't going to eat it, but that still bothered him.

"It's not makeup. I told you I'm good at this; I was built to infiltrate," the android said, returning to his usual way of talking. The falsetto he had to pull, while not physically challenging, bothered him on a spiritual level.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Built-to-infiltrate," she replied, her mouth full of cake. He took notice of the multiple tattoos that filled the woman's arms. From her fingers to her shoulders, the black ink contrasted against her ridiculously fair skin.

"You did 'em all yourself?" he asked with genuine curiosity. The strange combination of phrases, small drawings, and symbols on the woman's skin looked surprisingly aesthetic despite not having any relation between them.

She stopped eating and raised her face from the plate to look at her arms. "Yeah, at least the ones on my left arm… you like'em?"

"Ain't bad, but the snake-eating skull next to 'cute but psycho' seems a bit controversial for a stripper… don't ya' think?"

She huffed. "Strippin' wasn't my dream job; you know, fucker? Maybe putting yourself in our shoes might do you good."

Gavin laughed; it was strange to find someone as aggressive as him. "Chill, I just thought I might get one myself if I'm gonna strip."

"That's up to Lin. And things are tense after the shit your group pulled at the LOTUS the other day."

"They suspect something?" Gavin frowned, tilting forward to hide their conversation.

"No, not as far as I could tell.” Immediately, she leaned back, putting distance between them with discomfort. She yanked her purse over her lap and rummaged through it roughly. "But the girls talk… and I figured four stupid men who'd got kicked out for drinking too much must've been you and your cop friends." She took out an e-cigarette, checked the tank, and started vaping in long drags, despite several signs explicitly prohibiting it.

The girl looked unwell- nervous and sweaty. He knew the type; he'd worked along dealers and addicts long enough to recognize withdrawal. He felt sorry North had to see that.

"So, what did the cops find out about LOTUS," she asked, blowing the steam up to the ceiling and just a little to Gavin's face- _Elixir Frozen Mango e-liquid™_. "You must've found something; that place is shady as fuck."

"Wow, slow down there. You're my contact, nothing more. I can't tell you anything about the investigation," Reed remarked, frowning and placing his hands flat on the table.

"Bull- shit." The woman remarked each syllable and pointed her finger at Gavin. "I'm putting my neck out for you, pigs. The least you could do is tell me what's going on and if my life and the girls' are in danger."

"I'm not a heartless bastard, okay? I can assure you neither you nor the other girls are in danger." As far as they knew, all the victims had been androids. "And if that were the case, I’d tell you."

"I don't trust you. Android or not, you're a cop…"

Gavin was growing frustrated. He has a short temper, and she sure is testing it.

"What the fuck you want then?!" It had become harder to keep his voice down.

"Tell me what you found! And in the future, keep me posted on your little plans. I don't want to be the last to know what you're up to. I can help!"

A nasty sneer appeared in Gavin's face, completely breaking the sweet California boy illusion. "Forget it; you've no idea what this is about; you can't go around playing detective!”

Ripple reciprocated the sneer. "Then I'm done with you… I want to talk to North."

"What?! Are you out of your mind? I'm not negotiating with you!"

"It is, and here's the deal: you wanna get into the LOTUS? You start treating me the same way you treat your partners… or you can fly solo, blondie." She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

It was a fucking miracle his protocol hadn't crashed yet; he was fuming.

 _"Gavin, lemme talk to her."_ North's voice inside his head broke the spell, having forgotten she was listening to their conversation live.

 _"You don't have to, North,"_ he replied through the same private channel.

_"It's okay. I'm heading to the diner."_

"She'll talk to you," Gavin muttered through greeted teeth, getting up from the table and crossing North on his way to the bathroom. He glanced back slightly, seeing the female officer taking the recently vacated seat.

_"Rip, calm down…"_

_"I can't; why can't you undest-"_

  
He closed the bathroom door and tuned out the conversation. Though he could have easily heard it from there, North was his friend; she deserved the privacy.

He turned on the tap and splashed some water on his face, just to kill time. The stranger that stared back at him when he glanced at the mirror made him curl up his lip. He didn't like being Neil.  
Luckily for him, the bathroom was empty. So he leaned against the sink and dropped the protocol, reverting to his usual appearance. His CPU immediately thanked him for that breather of RAM.

 _"Gavin? What happened?"_ Jerry asked; the worry in his voice was something very unusual. _"North muted her mic."_

 _"Relax, she came by to add the female touch and shit,"_ he replied vaguely. _"They know each other."_

 _"She's ... really something; that Ripple girl,"_ added Daniel shyly. Jerry just hummed in agreement.

A few minutes passed before the radio chimed again. It was North telling him she had calmed Ripple down, convincing her to continue with the operation. His partner sounded exhausted.  
When Gavin came out of the bathroom, back to being Neil, Ripple was standing near the door.

"C'mon, Lin is waiting." 

She didn't even glance at him.

\------------------------

Date:  
 _ **May 16th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
 _PM **06:42:** 17_

He hated Dulles airport, mainly because of the lightning it had; he didn't exactly know what it was about it, but it always gave him a headache. Renting a car and driving all the way to his bureau-assigned apartment every Sunday night had become so much of a hassle he’d started taking the bus everywhere. At least that gave him some time to sleep on his way to downtown Washington.

Despite all that, he didn’t feel tired right now and was likely ignoring whatever headache he might be building because he climbed to the office where his team worked in high spirits. He entered the room out of air, having taken the stairs.

“H!?”

"Good afternoon, Agent Kent."

"Ah!... Good afternoon, Howard."

The android who had greeted him was named Howard, and Nines felt a deep-seated discomfort towards him.

Howard was an HK900, and he looked exactly like if someone had taken Hank and redesigned him to enforce fear in the general population. While Hank was conceived to be a caring and protecting figure (much like a giant teddy bear, North had stated), his successor had taken that principle and twisted it into a "seek and destroy" sort of approach.  
The HK900 had a few different physical characteristics from his predecessor. Instead of a ponytail, he wore his hair short, as was his carefully trimmed beard; and his eyes, instead of blue, were a strange shade of brown, almost amber-like. His LED was always yellow or red, and he'd rarely seen him smile.

But what made Nines more uncomfortable than anything else was the fact the HK900 reminded him a little of himself. And he wasn’t the only one; many people in the bureau said the same. He wondered if he was the "meanest" version of his brother, like a succeeding model- _Upgraded Connor._  
He disliked the idea.

"I thought you weren't coming till tomorrow," said the android, standing in the middle of the office as naturally as a piece of furniture.

"Something came up. Is Hunter here?"  
  
"He went out an hour ago to buy a snack," he replied coldly. "But he's most likely taking a nap somewhere else."

Both huffed in annoyance at almost the same time.

"I'll wait; it's useless to call him," he sighed, sitting at his desk. Howard nodded and walked over to him, keeping an expressionless face and his arms behind his back.

"I heard about the case you stumbled upon, Agent Kent. It looks promising."

"It is! Howard, if you find anything about it in the files, could you tell me?" He asked excitedly; the android would surely be more capable of navigating the sea of evidence that was the FBI database.

"No. That is not my job," the android replied and turned around to go back to whatever he'd been doing before Richard arrived.

In any other circumstance, he would've been angry, or at least taken aback by his answer; but after three months, he'd learned that the HK900 was… like that.

"I'll help you convince Hunter of keeping an office pet," he offered, glazing at the android across the office. Howard raised his head and frowned a little.

"You have my attention, Agent Kent." 

"I'm back, Howie. Any news?"

The door to the office opened, and a short, heavy-build man entered, swiping through his phone and yawning loudly.

"I'm not your secretary, Agent Cruz," replied the android, visibly frowning this time. "…and my name is Howard. Agent Kent is here."

Hunter raised his eyes from his phone to find Nines arching a brow at him, not that different from the android's expression. He was trapped between mirrors.

"Hi, Detroit," he smirked, taking a step to him and patting his arm. "Come, I have some news for you."

  
Hunter Cruz was a man in his mid-forties, standing around 5.8 ft and, although he had put on a little weight in recent years, he still maintained an athletic build. He had curly black hair that was already starting to grey at the sides, always falling messily around his face. His eyes, narrow and long, were constantly wandering, as was his mind.  
The best way Nines could describe the chief of the Illegal Substance Distribution unit was… _unorthodox._

That didn't mean the FBI agent was incompetent or lazy; on the contrary, Hunter was one of the smartest men Richard had ever met. He’d been one of his instructors during his training in Quantico, and they'd developed something of a friendship, seeing him as a mentor and learning from him how different it was to read and study a subject from applying that knowledge to real criminals.  
He learned a lot from him. However, Cruz's methods were sometimes incomprehensible to the young detective, often appearing capricious and double-intended. So different were they to Richard's way of thinking that he often found himself doubting Hunter's real goal.

Despite that, they got along fine and worked remarkably well together- when he managed to get his boss's attention, of course.

"Is it about the missing android cases?" Richard asked, following him to his desk. The coffeepot sputter, and Hunter waited for it to stop before pouring two cups.

"Indirectly. I looked into the port registry for the name of the ship Minh said in his deposition, _the Hong Kong Star_.” He handed Richard the mug, but coffee was the last thing in his mind. “The ship he described and the ship that appears in the registry do not match at all. And the records stated she had made at least five trips from Kowloon Peninsula to various US ports on the Atlantic coast, all under the fictitious name of this corporation you found."

He showed him his tablet. On the screen was a logging book, with the comings and goings of different ships. He scrolled through the endless list of names arranged alphabetically, each with their owner in the next column. He found _the Hong Kong Star._

“She’s owned by TCS."

"Exactly, so there's your solid evidence. Both cases are connected," A satisfied smile curved Hunter's lips, and he clapped Nines on the back. "Good work, Kent; I wouldn't have caught on that. The teacher becomes the student, as they say."

"It was… just luck," he said, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a long time by his work accomplishments. He hoped his face didn't give him away.

"Luck or not, we'll start digging into this. It won't sit well with the director that some unknown cargo is entering the country. Could be drugs… could be weapons.”

"It could be _androids_ ," Richard reminded him, frowning a little as he noticed that his boss had digressed again. "What are we going to do?"

Hunter was looking at his phone and had started packing his things. He seemed in a rush to leave.  
"Isn't your brother handling that?" he asked with his back to him, shoving things in his bag haphazardly.

"Yes, but-" he cut himself off, as Hunter had turned to him with a serious face.

"Detroit, you're with the FBI now."

"I know! But I can go as an FBI agent and-"

"Richard."

Hunter never called him by his name; it was always Detroit, or just Kent; the fact that he'd addressed him like that made the detective hold his tongue.

"I know that you want to help your people, I still try to lend a hand to my friends in Vice back in LA, but the missing android cases can be handled by the local police; they are more than competent to do that themselves. Our job is to investigate what TCS is doing with those shipments; anything else is outside our jurisdiction."

"But, Hunter!" He tried again, blocking his way not very subtly.

Hunter huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you want me to do? Send you back to Detroit to what? Oversee something that’s already taken care of?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I can help there, report back to you, coordinate things!"

"You haven't signed your transfer yet." 

Hunter's words were not a question but a blunt statement that took Richard a few minutes to digest. He was the head of his unit, so it came as no surprise that he was aware of the FBI's intentions of hiring him full time; However, Cruz hadn't said anything until now.

"No, I-…" He had wanted to say the same he'd said to Amanda, but the words didn't seem to form on his tongue. Instead, he shook his head, unable to look him in the eyes.  
He admired Hunter; and, in a weird way, wanted him to be proud, just like Amanda. In the end, Richard was still that idiotic child who desperately sought parental approval.

A long, heavy sigh left the senior agent's lungs, and Hunter took a step towards him, grasping Nines' shoulders. He shuddered.

"Kent, I've known you since- I don't know, six years now? You're a goddamn smart, and you're doing a much better job than any rookie agent I've ever seen. Shit! By the time you hit my age, you could be at the top! That's why I suggested they hire you." Richard couldn't help but shy away from his words, Hunter's penetrating gaze still set on him. " But please, you need to start living here... and not back in Detroit."

He grunted, trying to pull away from him, but Hunter squeezed his shoulders a little and held him in place.

"Your place is here."

And with that, his hands were gone, but the heavy burden of his words still lingered. Agent Cruz turned to his desk to grab his phone; he patted his arm on the way to the exit.  
"Get some sleep. We'll talk to everybody tomorrow, get some warrants running for TCS. Good night, Detroit."

He didn't reply.

\-----------

Date:  
 _ **May 16th,** 2039 _  
Time:  
 _PM **06:49:** 33_

They'd walked at least eight blocks down Easy street, leaving his team behind. He preferred going solo, partially due to his own pride- the idea of Jerry and Daniel watching him strip was something he’d gladly change for desk duty. And North was watching him closely, in case something came up.

Reed had asked her if she was alright, and his partner had ignored him, telling him she'll be online. But the officer didn't sound okay at all.   
He glared at the woman beside him, walking under his umbrella. Though she looked calmer than at the diner, she kept vaping non-stop, not crossing a single word with him.

Ripple guided the man down a dirty alley. The alleyway was cluttered with bottle crates, garbage bags, and dumpsters. She kicked away a cardboard box with her boot, and a bunch of roaches scurried away.

"What’s your name again?" 

"Neil Reid."

"No. Your real name…your android name, or whatever you call yourself." 

"Gavin Reed; GV200, #722 107 202 – 27, if you wanna know the model and denomination," he replied in the most unfriendly way possible. 

  
She stopped in front of the back door of the club and turned to face him. "I'll stick to calling you Neil; it's easier to remember. And erase that scar from your nose.”

"Why?" he growled, not giving a shit about hiding the hostility in his voice.

"Nobody likes damaged goods… and it's quite distinctive, like my tattoos. Didn't you think of that, Mr. Built-to-infiltrate?" she scoffed.

Although he knew he could very much hide the mark on his human face, it meant something to him. The scar was something unique, something that made him who he was; it proved that regardless of whether this was 25's improved and rebuilt body, he was Gavin... Real Gavin.   
But as Nines had said, _work was work._

It took a simple command for the scar to disappear from the bridge of his nose, as if it had never been there in the first place, just smooth skin.

"Holy shit!" Ripple exclaimed, getting a little nearer to his face. "That's sick…"

"Happy?" He pushed by her and opened the door, pissed off already. "Let's just get this over with."

  
The inside of the club looked radically different between day and night.

It was quiet, cold, and the floor was still damped from the mop someone had used to clean up spilled drinks, vomit, and other fluids. Chairs rested on tables, stage lights were off, and a dull Lo-fi played through the speakers. The smell of flowers and booze mixed with the bleach from the mopping made the air heavy.

"Hey! Whatcha doing here so early?" asked a woman sitting at the bar, the only person in sight. She was drinking; limes floated alongside some ice cubes, slowly melting from the warmth of her hand.

"Hi, Savannah," replied Ripple, in the friendliest tone he'd ever heard her use. "I brought the new guy I told you about… Is Lin here?"

"She's in her office, counting the millions we make," said Savannah and let out a high-pitched laugh, taking another sip from her caipirinha. "Hey… say hi, blondie."

Gavin recognized her; it was one of the dancers he had seen with Richard the other night, though she had ditched that pink wig for her natural frizzled hair. In the daylight, she looked older than she really was, worn-out.

"Hi," he greeted, sure to make it extra sweet and shy. "I'm Neil."

"Neil, huh? You're cute…" Savannah looked him up and down and smirked, stirring her cocktail with the straw before taking a long drink, making sure to keep eye contact with him as she did so.

"Drop it, Sav… he's just as broke as we're," intervened Ripple with annoyance, pulling Gavin by the arm towards the back of the stage.

"You just want to keep 'im to yourself!"

"That's Savannah," Ripple informed him, probably unaware that he could scan everyone he knew. "Don't let her age fool you; she'll rob you blind and sell your gallbladder if she could…"

"That's encouraging…" grunted Gavin back. 

"Wait here; I'll introduce you." 

They had stopped at the same door Connor had trespassed through, the one marked _ <<Private>>_. Despite knowing what was behind it, he felt uneasy, remembering the content of those crates.

Ripple disappeared through the door, and he used the time to check on his team, securing their positions before the girl reappeared, motioning to follow down the corridor. They passed the door where the crates had been and instead walked to the last one; Ripple tapped lightly on it.

"Come in."

Yung-Ling Fa, whom everyone called Lin, was a short middle-aged woman, with a stern rictus and constantly frowning. Her face gave the impression of always being dissatisfied with others.

"Lin, this is Neil, the guy I told you about," introduced Ripple.

The woman turned from her laptop to look at Gavin. He trailed him in a similar way to Savannah’s but scoffed at the end as if unimpressed by what Ripple had presented her.

"You drink?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, confused.

"You drink? You smoke? Do you use any kind of drug?" Repeated the woman.

"N-no, I don't do drugs."

"Children? Family?"

"No, I'm not from Detroit… my family-" Gavin began, ready to blurt out the story Jerry had prepared for his character, but Lin cut him off with an exasperated groan.

"Answer my questions. Yes or no, that's all," Lin said, raising her voice only a little to underline how Gavin was wasting her time. He fought the urge to bark back at her.

"I don't carry luggage."

"Good… can you dance?

"I've- … done this before, in Cali, and I've worked tables and the bar; this isn't my first time." He changed his story a little, sensing the woman wouldn't hire a rookie.

"Even better. Half of the week, you dance; the other half, you make drinks. If you can't do both, there's no job for you here."

He nodded, gripping his gym bag a little tighter. When he spoke again, his voice had turned apprehensive. "How-… How much will I-?"

"10 dollars an hour, plus tips."

"That’s below the minimum wage!" He exclaimed, aggravated. Neil might be naïve, but he wasn't stupid, or at least, that's what Gavin thought. "Like, androids earn more than that!"

"Then you can go work as an android somewhere else." 

He bit his tongue, pulled his best face of desolation, and took a step forward. "No, no… it's okay; I'll take it."

Lin's eyes returned to his face, for the first time giving him her full attention. It was like being in front of Amanda, with the difference that his captain actually gave a shit about him.

"You start tonight if you want the job. Our bartender bailed, so you're set there for now."

"O-okay… no dancing then?"

"I'll decide if you get on stage or not …"

He held back a smile; serving drinks was far better than shaking his ass on a stage.

"And one more thing," She stood up, and though she may not have surpassed the 5.3 ft, she was equally as imposing as Hank, her dark eyes making anyone bow in submission. "We have the strict policy of not fucking the clients. You want the extra attention, do it outside my establishment, or you're fired. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am…"

"Lin, you call me Lin. Go with Ripple and she'll show you the place. And you," she addressed the blue-haired woman that waited by the door. "Sober up; this is your last warning."

Ripple said nothing, diverting her gaze and waiting for the man to follow her out of the office. Android or not, Gavin was glad to be away from that place.

"Why did you complain about the pay? You need this job," she asked him, stopping in the middle of the hallway. Gavin took the opportunity to look at the door to his right, the one where Connor had found the components.

"It'd be suspicious if I'd agreed to work for peanuts, even if I'm supposed to be a broke drifter," he raised his eyebrow and scoffed. "What? That didn't occur to you, smartass?"

Ripple snorted but smiled. "Fine, follow me ... you better meet the girls."

  
The girls hardly reacted to the door being opened until Savannah gave the alert.

"Yo! Blondie!” She greeted, turning in her chair as she styled her wig with some hairpins, holding them in her mouth. “Ya' got the job?"

"Hey, listen up!" Ripple called, and three more girls turned around. "This is Neil; he'll be working with us from now on. Neil, you already met Savannah. And that's Cherry and DeDe. Ruan? I thought you had the night off."

Of course, Gavin already knew the three girls from the other night, but the fourth one? That was a surprise that made him stop dead in his tracks. He knew Ruan... she was an android.

Ruan was an AX400, not a traci, and why she was working as an exotic dancer was probably because no other job would take her. Androids were underpaid, and an unregistered one would have to take whatever opportunity offered.

"Claudia was sick, so I'm covering for her." Ruan smiled; her sleepy eyes were sweet and gentle, and though her face was the same as many others AX400's, she wore her hair pixie cut and copper, with heavy makeup that hid some facial dents. She still had her LED.

He had seen Ruan in New Jericho, one of the many "unwanted" that came and went from there, just another android trying to find its place in post-revolution Detroit. The reality was that many of them not only struggled monetarily but psychologically as well. And try as they might, New Jericho simply didn't have the resources to help them all.

"Don't be shy, come here and say hi! It's been a long time since Lin brought a new boy apart from Teddy," said DeDe, the short, curvy girl that was ironing her hair. 

"Hi, my name is Neil… nice to meet you," he replied, taking a step forward and smiling timidly.

He focused on Ruan, who had nodded with a soft smile before turning back to the mirror. Not only had she not recognized him, but she hadn't even realized that he was an android. Gavin had tried it before with Hank, Ralph's blocking system, but it was the first time he used it on his job.  
It felt bad, as if he was betraying her by hiding his nature.

"You're cute; how old are you?" Cherry asked, turning in her chair to look at him.

"You won't believe me," he laughed, loathing this Neil character he was portraying; he was almost his exact opposite.

"Where’re you from? D'ye have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Tell us!" chirped Savannah, excited.

"I'll leave you with ‘em. Good luck, Blondie," Ripple laughed in his ear, pushing him towards the awaiting girls before turning around and leaving Gavin to fend for himself.

“Where are you going? Ripple...!?”

And just like that, Gavin, now Neil, had been abducted into an endless interrogation, harsher than the DPD's. For someone who had been undercover with tough drug dealers, far-right terrorists, and even a bunch of old-time scammers, Gavin found this group of girls to be his ultimate test of endurance.

"Move." A different voice interrupted the endless tirade of questions, and Reed was more than grateful to this kind stranger.

It was a man, one Gavin hadn't seen before on either the tapes or the LOTUS employee register. He entered the changing room sweating, with a scornful look on his face.

"Teddy, this is Neil…" DeDe introduced, still hanging from the undercover android's arm.

"Hi, nice to meet you." He extended his hand to greet him, but Teddy kept a disdainful face, ignoring his gesture and walking past him, shoulder checking him on his way to the back where a single dressing room remained private for him. He closed the door and slid the lock with a heavy click.

"Prick," Gavin exclaimed, unable to hold his tongue. DeDe chuckled.

"Oh, don't mind him…he's just worried you might take his job. He's been doing this for ages!"

Gavin could believe that.   
Teddy looked like he was either in his late twenties and had lived a very hard life full of difficulties, or forty with a moderately hard life. Either way, he was the type of man that had passed his prime but still clung desperately to the last strands of his boyish looks. Thin, almost sickly skinny, and just wearing a ridiculously tiny jockstrap, Teddy looked like someone beaten down not only by life but by red ice in particular.

_DALTON, THEODORE STEVEN. Born 09/23/1999 // Unemployed // Criminal record: manslaughter- Time served, Ten years in California State Prison, LA County._

"He used to be some rich politician's trophy boy, or that's what he always says," Savannah intervened with a mocking face. "I think he's full of shit… just a nobody like the rest of us; acts like he's a fucking star, though."

He hummed, wondering if the hostile man would become a problem for him.

"C'mon, Neil. You're serving drinks with me tonight," said Cherry, finishing her lipstick after fifteen minutes of non-stop interrogation.

Well, at least he hadn't had to dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard, the HK900... I couldn't help adding him, despite having Nines <3
> 
> Sorry chapters are taking so long. I've been feeling a bit bump down about my writing - classic self-doubt. Thank you for being here and reading c:

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Every comment, feedback, and Kudo is very much appreciated.  
> I'm pretty nervous (again) about this.


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